Someone True
by JasperK
Summary: Sarah Williams beat the Goblin King's Labyrinth and rescued her little brother, but now, years later Jareth and the goblins refuse to leave her alone. Forced to find outside assistance, Sarah discovers Howl is a Wizard and goes to ask for help. Yet, as with everything involving the Labyrinth, nothing is quite as it seems. [Edit: Ch 24 is now fixed!]
1. Chapter 1

Sarah stood with the umbrella tilted back enough so that she could see Megan atop the ladder. She kept her boot in place on the lowest rung so it wouldn't wobble as the she climbed.

"This way!" Megan took an old butter knife that seemed to have been used for this very purpose a number of times and jammed it into the gap between the window and its frame. "Just wriggle it like so, and when you feel it catch, pull it towards you and the window should pop open."

She clambered down and handed her the knife.

Sarah took it. The handle was wood and the knife was silver. She managed a wobbly smile.

"Just try it," Megan said in her strong Welsh accent.

Sarah glanced around the dripping garden in Wales. She could not believe she had blown half her college savings to fly all the way to Britain. No. She could. She was that desperate.

"Thanks for believing me."

Megan huffed, and waved her off.

"Our family has always had magical connections. It just came out a little different for you."

"Dad didn't believe me," Sarah said quietly.

"Oh, I think he did." Megan gave her a nudge towards the ladder. "He gave you my address didn't he?"

Sarah nodded; they had corresponded by post for almost a year now.

"Up you go!" Megan waved. "And tell my brother that he had better visit and collect his bills, his taxes are due."

"Okay," Sarah felt a little better. The idea that a Wizard owed the government taxes made him sound a little more down to earth and approachable.

Sarah handed over the umbrella to Megan, who took the supporting stance at the base of the ladder. She climbed up to the second story window. It looked into Megan's study, but Megan had explained her brother had linked it to his home in a neighbouring dimension. If she were to focus on him and his home, she would be able to open it with the silver knife she now held. She jammed the blade in between the window and its frame and felt for the latch. Just as the latch caught, she sensed the glow and fizz she associated with the Labyrinth magic. No! Not the Labyrinth. Howell Jenkins. Megan's brother, her recently discovered second cousin. She called to mind the image of a black haired young man in a rugby jersey from the photograph Megan had of him, and focused on the idea of his home. She felt it the moment the magic caught. It was a smooth almost soft flow of space, like a swiftly flowing stream of water over a layer of rock. She jiggled the window open and put her head in.

It was a bedroom, a magpie's nest of trinkets and curious things. It was also filthy. Oh, she could see someone lived there, there was a clear trail to the bed and the wardrobe, but someone hadn't bothered to clean in ages. She felt a little wobbly doubt pool at the base of her stomach. Were all magic users sloppy in their housekeeping? Jareth's throne room came starkly to mind. No! She couldn't afford to think of Jareth at a thin place in the world. She needed to speak to a Wizard. She focused.

"I think I have it, the room's a mess!"

"That's it!" Megan called back with a sudden sour expression.

Sarah hesitated. She was, after all, about to climb into a man's bedroom.

"Are you sure he won't be mad?"

"No, he's too lazy for that!"

Sarah carefully tossed down the knife so it landed some distance away from Megan in the grass.

"Wish me luck!" She called and pulled herself over the windowsill.

* * *

It didn't feel any different. The Labyrinth had a distinct scent in the air, fresh and crisp around the hedges, unbelievably awful around the regions near the Bog. This room smelled a little like lingering perfume, hyacinths she thought, and stuffy like someone hadn't aired it in a while. She closed the window though. Leaving portals open, she had learned the hard way back home, was a free invitation for goblins to wreck havoc. Megan had been very helpful; she didn't want whatever Howell's version of goblins were to cause her second cousin any trouble.

She had to tiptoe across the messy room. Jareth had those menacing crystals of his. She didn't want to step on anything that might have active spells on it. Who knew what Wizards could do? She opened the door and stuck her head out gingerly. She could hear voices down stairs, but the upper landing seemed quiet. She slipped out of the room and headed down. She was not a thief, no matter how much she felt like one, trespassing as she was at that moment.

Sarah trailed down the stairs into a very neatly kept kitchen. A young boy sat at a scrubbed kitchen table, an old woman slept in a chair before the fireplace, and in the hearth crackled some kind of living fire. She could see its face, its eyes bored into her. She shivered. It was dangerous. Possibly as dangerous as Jareth. She couldn't see anything, but that sixth sense she'd gained for magic made all the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Woah, there was someone!" The young boy slid off the bench onto his feet to face her.

"I told you," the living fire crackled at him, somewhat smugly. "She tripped the wards with some sort of magic." The living fire fell into crackling contemplation. "It's familiar, but I can't quite place it."

"Sophie!" The boy ran over to the old woman and jiggled her arm. She raised her grey head sleepily.

"Michael, what is it dear?"

He pointed at Sarah who had paused on the bottom step of the stairs, still uncertain of her welcome.

"Calcifer says she used some odd magic to come through the upstairs window."

"The upstairs window?" Sophie propped both aged hands on her walking stick and peered at Sarah. "Did you climb up the outside of the castle?" Michael said in horrified awe.

"The what?" Sarah looked around the room. This was certainly no castle. Megan's house in Wales was bigger than this.

"The Moving Castle?" Michael put his hands on his hips in a cross manner. "How could you miss it if you climbed in from the outside?"

"I climbed in from Megan's garden in Wales," Sarah explained. "I'm Howell Jenkin's second cousin and I have some magical business to discuss with him."

Calcifer crackled and roared in the fireplace.

"You're Howl's family? He said he had no relatives as strong in magic as he!"

Calcifer said the wizard's name in a subtly different way, which she noted.

"I, I don't think I have his sort of magic, it's that what I need to discuss. Please!" Sarah backed up a few stairs, Calcifer the living fire looked more and more like a demon the bigger he flared.

"Oh settle down, Calcifer," Sophie scolded, and to Sarah's relief he did.

She didn't dare leave the stairs though.

"You're here to see Howl on family business."

"Yes, ma'am," Sarah could accord her respect, that scary fire obeyed her.

"Well then you are welcome, come and sit down and tell us a bit about yourself. Howl is out at the moment, but he should be back by the end of the day."

Sarah felt as if an enormous pressure had been lifted off her shoulders. She smiled and careful to keep the old woman between her and the living fire in the hearth went to sit on the well scrubbed bench along from where Michael had been working.

"What's your name?" Sophie asked.

"Sarah Williams, Howell and I share a great grandfather, Robert Jenkins, my father was named for him."

"You said Howl had a sister?"

"Yes, she's his older sister by three years."

"Did you know he had a sister?" Sophie asked Michael.

The boy shook his head but Calcifer crackled and muttered something that sounded like 'nagging shrew', but it could be the way he was gnawing on a log.

"You speak with an unusual accent," Sophie observed over Calcifer's impolite crackling.

"Oh, yes, I'm from America." She saw their blank faces. "It's to the west, over the sea? It took me two days travel by aeroplane to get to Megan's place."

"That's far," Sophie marvelled.

"Aeroplanes? You've been in one?" Michael all but climbed into her lap with enthusiasm. The conversation derailed into Sarah giving the story of her trip over. Even Calcifer sounded interested.

* * *

The sun sank and red streaks of the last light splashed over the walls of the room. Sophie hobbled over to the sink and began to scrub a few plates. Sarah hurried over to help the old woman. Michael settled back onto the kitchen bench with a pencil and a notebook as he returned to the homework he'd been attending to earlier. Calcifer skulked about the logs in the hearth, watching them.

"So, dear," Sophie asked in that quiet comforting voice of hers. "What trouble brings you to Howl's door? Or is it a private family matter?"

Sarah sighed; a full body action that made the soapsuds dance and froth everywhere.

"That bad?"

"Worse," Sarah complained, "there's this guy…" she trailed off not knowing how to explain the full measure of infuriating irritation that was Jareth.

"What's he like?" Sophie said gently and took a wet plate and dried it off.

Sarah scrubbed the next plate rather too harshly but didn't notice.

"Tall, arrogant, thinks the world revolves around him, and I can't get a straight answer out of him!"

"He's not blond with blue eyes is he?"

Sarah gaped at her in alarm.

"You know Jareth?"

"No, I thought you were describing Howl!"

They both began to laugh, awkwardly, yet Sarah felt a sudden kinship with this woman.

"If Howell's exactly like Jareth, then I don't know what I'm going to do," she said and handed the plate along for Sophie to dry. "How did you deal with irritating men in your day?"

Sophie gave her a sly smile then leaned over and whispered conspiratorially.

"You manage them, only, don't let them realise you're doing it. As long as they think it is their idea all along, you're good."

"But he's the most stubborn, relentless person I have ever met! I can't get a word in edgeways, and if I do I'm arguing with him!"

"Have you tried giving him a choice?"

"A choice?" Sarah sounded dubious. "Usually my choice is 'no' and 'never.'"

"Oh, no wonder he's upset. Tell me, and this is important, dear, is he relentless in a good way or a bad way?"

Sarah did not know what she meant and shrugged.

"What I mean is, when he asks for things–"

"Demands," Sarah corrected.

"When he demands things, what is his intent? Does he want to control you and override your will with his own, or does he simply not know a polite way to request things?"

"Oh he knows a polite way," Sarah ground out, "only he's the damn King and always gets his way. If not he throws a massive temper tantrum."

"A King, now that makes things a little more difficult."

"You don't say?" Sarah grouched. She took the crustiest looking pot, dumped it in the water and began scrubbing. Doing the dishes was a wonderful outlet for her temper.

Sophie mildly continued to dry the plates beside her.

"My stepmother gave me some very good advice once," Sophie said, "we had a hat shop, and had all sorts of customers through there. She said to remember that men are like little children at heart, they might be loud and full of bluster, but inside their hearts are most soft and delicate. We are to treat them gently, even if they put up a show. Often, the bigger the bluster the more delicate the heart. However, and this is important, sometimes that heart is not tender but damaged beyond repair. A man will also cover it in bluster, but they lack control, and they damage those around them. What sort of heart does your Jareth have?"

Sarah stopped scrubbing. She thought over the interactions with the fae King. He was tricky, manipulative, nasty in the manner of a sulky two year old and oddly fragile. Sophie was right he was full of bluster, but what sort of heart did that hide? She did not know.

"As mad at him as I am now, I'd say he's damaged and be done with him, but…" she sighed.

"You rather fancy him?"

Sarah gaped at the old woman in rising horror. No. No. No! This was not happening. Where did this become any sort of idea like that?

"Actually," she said stiffly, still reeling, "I came to ask Howell the best way to raise threshold wards against fae."

A crackling belch of heat and soot roiled from the fireplace. Everyone in the room jumped as the living fire flared up, baking the room with his heat.

"Fae!" Calcifer roared at Sarah. "You! You're part fae and I let you through the wards! What a fool am I! Claiming family kinship indeed! Get out!"

"What?" Sarah breathed then rounded on the living fire in fury. "I am no fae! I am Howell's second cousin by blood. I was born to human parents. I am human! Don't you dare pin that on me!"

"The slippery magic you used to open the window that had a fae touch!" Calcifer crackled menacingly in the hearth.

"Well, I did think of the Labyrinth, the portal has the same tingly flowing magic!" Sarah spat at Calcifer.

"You travel the thin places of the world?" Calcifer said, banking himself amongst the logs, but still flaring hotly. "How?"

"By mirror, usually," Sarah explained. "I've friends on the other side. I can invite them over and they can invite me there."

Only Calcifer's crackling broke the silence.

"You claim you are human, yet you use their manner of travel."

"Wizards use the exact same thing!" Sarah sniffed.

"You have a point," Calcifer conceded reluctantly.

The silence drew out just too long and Sarah sighed.

"Look, I'm not here to make trouble. I'll be gone as soon as Howell teaches me the spell, okay?"

She went back to scrubbing the pot, though the fire and fight in her belly had dimmed and she just felt tired. Sophie picked up the dried plates beside her and set about preparing supper. After a failed argument with Calcifer, who crackled and grumbled amid his logs and refused to bend his head, the old woman set the frying pan aside and made do with salads, cold ham and cheese for supper.

Sarah had finished the dishes by the time they sat down to supper. Sophie lit the lanterns hung from the rafters and the room was bright with Calcifer's glow and cozy for the night.

The food was simple yet wholesome, and there was a jar of the best chutney she had ever tasted. Sophie kindly sat and wrote out the recipe for her so she could make her own supply.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah was just carrying the stack of dirty dishes across to the sink when the door opposite the hearth opened, then slammed closed. A young man bounded up the stairs and Sarah gaped at him in astonishment. There was a world of difference, but they looked similar in so many aspects. She caught Sophie watching her reaction and could only nod dumbly. Megan's photo must be an old one as this man certainly did not have black hair. He was as blond as Jareth!

He frowned at her, glanced at Sophie, then peered carefully at her, tilting his head to and fro like a bird.

"Where have you come from?" He sounded genuinely curious.

"She's been messing with the fae," Calcifer crackled.

"Oh, I can see that," Howl strode across the room, and circled her; the harlequin patterned coat he wore flowed around him with too much flair for it not to be spelled for effect. "She's mostly human though, but a little soft around the edges as they are. She's known them a few years perhaps."

Howl finished his circuit and ended up before her. She could see he was Megan's brother, as he had the same shape nose and eye colour. He was also nearly as tall as Jareth. His blond hair wasn't helping her in her quest not to think of the miserable fae.

"So, who are you, and to repeat my earlier question, where do you come from?"

"I'm Sarah Williams, your second cousin; Megan told me where to find you. I'm from America."

He blinked, then blinked again.

"My second cousin?" he breathed, his eyes widening in wonder. "You have the gift?"

"Magic? I don't know, maybe? A few years back I landed in all sorts of trouble because I said some words and they stuck."

Howl's face broke into a brilliant smile.

"You have the gift! This is wonderful! I was so careful to check all my relatives after my uncle died, but none of them showed anything! To think the lot that went across to America would have it! Do you have any siblings? How are you related to me, your mother or your father? Are they still living?"

"We share a great grandfather in Robert Jenkins, and it's through my father Robert Williams that I'm related. I have a little brother Toby, and he could possibly have the gift. He can order the goblins about like nobody's business!"

"The goblins!" Howl declared sharply. "Are they the fae that you know?"

"Er, yes? Are there other fae?"

Howl gave an inelegant snort and shook his head as if pitying her knowledge.

"Their plains of existence outnumber the human plains by magnitudes."

His grin spread across his face again.

"I can't believe it! You have the gift! Set those dishes down, we must talk! Let me hear about your family!"

* * *

They talked until two in the morning. Michael fell asleep at the table at around ten, and Sophie made hot chocolate for them all while Howl picked him up and carried him up to bed. They settled around Calcifer's hearth as Sarah got into the nitty gritty of how she had ended up in the Labyrinth and what had happened. Howl was silent except to ask an occasional clarifying question here and there.

"Then after I went to all the trouble to declare 'you have no power over me,' I wanted to speak to my friends, so I stupidly gave a blanket invitation to all those living in the Labyrinth to visit me."

"Which includes one irascible Goblin King," Howl reflected.

"Ding ding ding, we have a jackpot!" Sarah slumped in her chair.

They sat listening to Calcifer's crackling over the new log Sophie had given him.

"So, why did you seek me out?" Howl asked. "What did you think I could do?"

"I wanted to raise a threshold ward against the fae," Sarah admitted. "Only, now that I think about it, it's going to have to be a very specific ward against Jareth alone."

"Don't name him," Howl said softly, "they can hear their names, use his title."

"Oh he responds to that as well," Sarah grouched, "it was all in the book."

Howl raised his eyebrows.

"There is a book of summoning for the Labyrinth?"

"Yes, my mother gave it to me."

"You did? What is your mother's maiden name? Is she from a family with magic?"

"Linda Jones, I think it was her grandmother who came over from Britain when she was a little girl. They're from a place called Swansea."

Howl let out a heartfelt groan.

"Jones is the most popular surname in Wales, I'm not going to inspect every last one. See if you can find a listing of your mother's family back at least three or four generations. I want to check them for the gift."

"Why?" Sarah asked curiously.

"Why?" Howl exclaimed. "Are you not here for that very reason? You're untrained and caught up in a tangle with ways and powers beyond your capability to handle! There is a reason we train Wizards and Witches! If you're not careful you could tear down the barriers between worlds with impunity. In fact, you're currently doing so! You've given the goblin's free reign over America." Howl shoved a hand through his hair, making it stand on end, far too much like Jareth's did. He then dragged his hands down his face like Toby did in a sulk. "As if I did not have enough to deal with." He turned to Calcifer.

"Do you think we can we open a portal to Sarah's house?"

"She'll have to do the visualisation," Calcifer said, "but if you set up and directed the spell, it should take. Especially, if what you say is true and that she's played havoc with the thin places of the world."

"Good. We'll do that in two days. I'll have to gather supplies and visit my sister." He grimaced.

"Oh, Megan said to tell you that your taxes and bills are due," Sarah remembered.

"Make that three days," Howl grumbled, "I've apparently got business to settle back in the old home country."

Sophie yawned and hastily covered her mouth.

"Oh, it's late." Howl looked around as if only just noticing. "I'd offer you my bed but –"

Sarah snorted.

"No thanks, I've seen your room!"

Howl looked slightly affronted and then sheepish.

"Is it that bad?" Sophie asked sharply. "He wouldn't let me in to clean."

"Worse," Sarah promised vehemently.

Before Sophie could harangue Howl as she clearly wanted to Sarah spoke.

"Do you have a mattress and a few blankets? I'll sleep down here where your fire friend can keep his eye on me."

"Calcifer is a fire demon, and yes he would be suspicious. The demons and the fae have little liking for each other."

"Let me guess," Sarah said drily at a sudden inkling, "they're both rather picky about power, in that it should be theirs and not another's?"

"She's not far off, old Blueface," Howl said as Calcifer crackled imprecations into his coals.

"Don't worry Calcifer," Sarah said politely, "I'm rather keen to see the tail end of a certain fae myself."

"Not according to your heart," Calcifer crackled.

Howl straightened and caught her in a sudden keen stare.

"This fae," Howl said, his voice suddenly soft, yet careful, "is there a romantic link between you?"

"What?" Sarah spluttered. "First Sophie and now you, and your fire demon! He's an infuriating, demanding, insufferable piece of work!"

Howl gaped at her.

"This just became a great deal more complicated," he sounded as though he were about to cry.

"What did? Just throw up a ward and we're done."

"Done?" Howl asked softly, "Sarah," he breathed out her name like a sigh. "Sarah, you have the gift. By my oath I must train you or find you a suitable tutor. This is not something you can set aside for practising on Sunday afternoons like a yen to play the violin. This is your life. Once awoken, you weave magic into everything. All you have known up till now is going to change, and with the way you are talking, drastically."

Sarah gaped at him in slowly rising horror.

"I want to be an actress, or a writer, not, not a Witch!"

"Have you any idea what a Witch does?" Howl asked with a slight smile. "Your natural bent seems to go towards words; in fact I think that is the mother lode of your gift, the way you've been talking. You may certainly try those fields and use your gift through them, but your magical training must come first."

Sarah felt her breath hitch and a traitorous tear rolled down her cheek.

"I thought if he were gone everything would go back to normal," she was crying into her hand by the end of her words. She felt Sophie stand and enfold her in her arms. The old woman smelled of bees wax and lemon.

"It's very late." Howl stood, awkward around tears. "I'll bring down a pallet and blankets. We can talk some more in the morning."

"I'll show her to the bathroom," Sophie told him. "Come along, Sarah."


	3. Chapter 3

Sarah woke the next morning to the most mouth-watering scent of frying bacon. She opened her eyes sleepily to find a tall blond man in a loose white shirt, tight black trousers and a pendant at his neck, holding a large frying pan over the fire. She was out of her bed and halfway across the room before she remembered where she was. Howl's eyebrow climbed into his fringe as he turned from the hearth.

"What caused that reaction?" he asked incredulously.

Sarah felt like melting into the floor with mortification.

She trooped back to bed and pulled the quilt off the upper layer of blankets to tug around her shoulders. She mumbled her reply as she tucked her bare feet back into the warm sheets.

"What was that?" he inquired politely.

"I said," she felt her cheeks blush, "that you look like him."

"I look like, oh. Oh? I do? What's he look like?" Howl sounded intrigued.

"Blond, blue eyes, tall, wears shirts and trousers like that, has a pendant like yours. If I didn't know better I'd have thought you shared tailors."

"He's a magic user?" Howl asked sharply.

"He's fae, of course he is," Sarah said dismissively, then saw Howl's expression. "Yes? He can conjure these crystal orb things that can steal your memories or show you your dreams. He can shift time around, slow it, speed it up. He can twist gravity so that you think the ceiling is the floor. He can shape shift into an owl. He controls the Labyrinth and its power…" she tried to think of more examples, she knew there was more but it did not immediately come to her.

"He has command over memory, dream, time, space…." The colour drained from Howl's face. He put the pan to one side. "Don't burn breakfast!" he called to Calcifer and sprinted upstairs. He soon returned with a leather bound book which he flipped through and came to a halt before her bed. He found the page and slipped it under her nose.

Sarah took it. Behind her she heard Sophie slip out of bed. The old woman sat beside her on hers and peered over at the book.

She couldn't read the title word as it was in another script. He must have used a localised spell, because amongst the strange letters there was a patch in English it read "The Nobility of the High Fae. There is very little known of the upper echelons of the High Fae, save that there sit a High King and High Queen over many lesser Kingdoms. It is also theorised that there are other Kingdoms not subject to their overwatch. They are ruled by independent Fae, powerful enough to enforce their rule over their kingdom and to keep it free from outside interference. It is possible that these kingdoms are ruled by some of the greatest magic users among them, with skill and wit and deadly power."

She lowered the book.

"You're kidding me, right? Jareth's got more power than the High King and Queen?"

Howl glared at her.

"Don't say his name, if what you say is true, he'll be listening for it. I've enough to deal with in Ingary without fae powers trying to get some elbow room here too."

"Sorry," Sarah closed the book and handed it back. "I suppose I do need to learn how this magic thing works. Rule one; don't name the great power you're trying to avoid."

"Not a bad rule, in your case." Howl set the book down on the chair and went back to making breakfast. "He's not a goblin, is he? Despite his title?"

"No, he looks mostly human, but he's got rather pointy teeth, and weird eyebrows, but that could just be painted on, he's so vain!"

Beside her Sophie gave an almost silent snort of laughter.

"No wonder goblins are known throughout all the plains," Howl mused, "I never thought their King to be a magician. Then you add this wish away business, and he's got incoming traffic from every plain of existence, granting him control …" Howl trailed off.

He and Calcifer shared a very long hard look.

"We could move the castle to the edge of the Abyss of the Depthless Night and pretend we never met Sarah?" Calcifer said brightly with a touch too much desperation.

"That's probably his back garden," Howl grumbled.

Calcifer crackled and spat a few expletives in a language Sarah could not understand.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked.

Howl began to laugh mirthlessly.

"Nothing and everything!" he declared dramatically, throwing his hand into the air. He let his arm fall with a thump against his body and let out a long sigh.

"Sarah," he said carefully, "can you find it in your heart to perhaps care for him?"

"What?" she shrieked.

"I'm being deadly serious," Howl said.

She glowered at the stones before the hearth.

"Well, he is the hottest man I've ever seen, and the way he moves when he dances, oh my. And his voice when he sings." She felt her cheeks blush and didn't dare look at any of them. "But he's so demanding and just doesn't listen to my side of things."

"Is that all?" Howl sounded surprised. "You feel you're not being heard?"

"Isn't it everything?" Sarah snapped in exasperation.

To her surprise, Howl had a faint smile on his face.

"That makes things a little easier," he declared, then picked up the pan. "Sarah can you call Michael for breakfast, his door is the first on the left at the top of the stairs."

"Sure."

* * *

She hurried up the stairs, knocked at Michael's door and waited. Down below she could still hear the quiet conversation.

"We're going to have to summon him."

"No!" Calcifer crackled.

"We can't deal with Sarah's magic without his, they're linked somehow, and not only by the heart."

"I'll open the door to Sarah's home, but you're not summoning any fae within the castle. Do it out in this America place where she lives."

"Could I meet this young fae?" Sophie asked in her aged voice. "I have a few questions for him myself."

"Sophie, are you mad?" Calcifer crackled.

"That would not be a bad idea, but we'll run through our list of questions beforehand," Howl directed, "one has to be very clear when dealing with the fae." He gave a slight laugh then. "And he's not young; someone of his power and stature will be millennia old at least. It's something they grow into and only increases with age."

Sarah felt a little wobble in her heart then. Jareth had always seemed youthful if not young; she had never thought to ask.

She knocked again on Michael's door, then pushed it open and peered inside. There was a bundle the shape of a little boy on the bed beside the window. He was as bad as Toby! She swept in and shook his shoulder.

"Le'me 'lone," he grumbled, "the wind spell's only due on Tuesday."

"You don't want nice crispy bacon and eggs for breakfast then?"

Michael sat up sharply then blinked at her.

"You're not Sophie." He stared at her until his memories returned. "Oh, you're Howl's cousin from last night! You stayed!"

"I did, and a hot breakfast is waiting for us downstairs, come along!"

* * *

After breakfast Howl declared he had to go out into Kingsbury for supplies, and to Sarah's delight, Sophie and Michael saw him off to the tram terminus then took her sightseeing. They showed her the palace, then, at Sarah's plea, stopped briefly at a store to buy her a local dress and hat so she would blend in with the locals more comfortably. She promised Michael, who was apparently in charge of the household finances, she would pay Howl the equivalent in pounds once she could cash a travellers cheque back in Wales. He didn't seem very enthusiastic at that exchange for some odd reason. The clothes helped, the amount of men staring at her buttocks certainly decreased once she was no longer wearing jeans. She rather liked the almost Edwardian style dress with puffed sleeves, frills and elaborate buttons and the flamboyant hat and scarf that went with it.

They then walked through the markets, and saw the gardens and the square where the military were giving the public a display of two person gliders that were operated by some kind of magic, as there was no way they used regular aerodynamics.

They then did grocery shopping and returned home that evening. Sarah helped Sophie prepare a roast and cake, which she did in heavy iron pots. She'd never cooked by log fire before, but Sophie knew all the little tricks, most of which were coaxing Calcifer to keep a certain temperature. The elderly woman had just set the hot food on the table when Howl, with the unerring ability of a hungry man, arrived just in time. Toby had that skill too, Sarah marvelled, to arrive after all the work was done, but before the meal was consumed.

* * *

That evening after Michael had gone off to bed, she and Howl sat beside the hearth with Calcifer as Sophie took notes. It was rather awkward, but Howl carefully pried out of her as much as she could remember of the exact words and phrases she and Jareth had spoken. When she dredged up the last words, before his ultimate defeat, Howl and Calcifer exchanged dumbstruck glances.

"That settles it, then," Howl declared.

"Settles what?" Sarah asked, suspiciously.

"You're rather blind to the matters of the heart, dear," Sophie said gently.

"What that whole fear me, love me thing? That's just creepy."

"And that is where we come in," Howl said indicating himself and Sophie, "we need to explain to an infatuated fae that he's scared off his intended."


	4. Chapter 4

It was a moment before Sarah could find her voice, though her jaw worked furiously. What did Howl mean that they needed to explain to Jareth that he'd scared off his intended?

"His intended?" Sarah snapped. "I am not his intended. That's some old fashioned creepy old guy thing. He can't just declare I'm his!"

"He never did," Sophie interrupted calmly, "he only ever asked."

"Asked? More like begged and pleaded and made a right fool of himself!" Sarah sulked. "And everything he does comes with conditions! He wanted to keep Toby, I couldn't let that happen!"

"I will admit that his realisation of his interest was poorly timed, as was his use of it against your greater loyalty to your brother," Sophie said. "However, what little I know of fae is that they are truthful passionate beings. He is most likely very confused at your flat refusal without a passionate argument."

"He would have tied my words in knots," Sarah protested, "I needed to get Toby out of his clutches."

"And what of after you and your brother returned home? What of his visits then? What does he say?" Howl asked.

"He just sweeps into any room in the house that I'm in while alone and makes stupid rude comments about what I'm doing. The other day I was working on my homework in a perfectly decent spiral bound notebook, and he sweeps in, does his magic crystal thing and in its place is this huge heavy lunking great book! Bound in gold! I threw it at his head."

Howl began to laugh with huffs of incredulous mirth.

"I feel so sorry for him."

"For him?" Sarah exclaimed. "What about me? I lost four hours of homework thanks to that!"

"Sarah, dear," Sophie patted her arm, "what I think Howl is trying to say is that there has been a misunderstanding. Look at the example you've just given us. He replaced one of your very common note books with a beautiful book."

"Don't tell me that he meant well!" Sarah grouched. "He lost me four hours of work and all the rest of the notes in that book. I had to spend five dollars to photocopy a friends notes!"

"Sarah." Sophie's slightly stern tone interrupted her.

"So? He's trying to win me over with pretty gifts. Big deal. Doesn't he get I'm not interested in his pushy agenda?"

"Yet you are interested in him?"

She felt her cheeks go pink.

"It's kind of hard not to be."

"Then that gives us an honest starting point. Think of him as a foreigner from another country, who has never heard of America and the ways your people do things. Next time, instead of throwing his gift at him, thank him for his attention to your needs, but explain why your own book would be more appropriate in your situation."

Something clicked in her mind and she put her hands over her mouth.

"He's been giving me gifts," she realised. "Is there something in fae culture about giving gifts? I mean, I mean, he's not trying to court me is he?"

"We think he might just be doing that."

"Me? He's a king! I'm a mortal and a human. Why would he want me? I'm not ending up as his courtesan, no way, if he wants me, it'll be marriage and the whole works. It makes no sense! I've nothing to offer him!"

Calcifer coughed and crackled at that.

"Spit it out fireball," Sarah growled at him.

"You do," Calcifer clarified. "You're human, and forgive the bluntness, but your people are notoriously fecund. In addition, you have magic that can match and challenge his own. That's got to be an aphrodisiac beyond what he's probably encountered in centuries."

"Howl," Sarah said in a rather scratchy voice, "your fire demon is a randy bit of spark, are you sure there aren't any females for him to …"

She fell silent as Howl put a hand over her mouth.

"Don't," he said coolly and dropped the hand. "Second rule for Sarah," he sighed, "do not speak of that which you do not know."

She realised she had committed some sort of faux pas.

"Sorry," she mumbled then eyed Calcifer. "Sorry, Calcifer, that was quite rude. Just because I didn't like what you said, I shouldn't have said that."

"If this is how you retaliate to him, no wonder he's irritating you so much," Sophie marvelled.

"It's one of my stepmother's complaints about me, I get saucy and blunt when cross. I get worse around him, he just brings out all my feisty irritation and then he argues with me and it just escalates."

"Well, now that you are aware of that reaction, it might help to explain it to him," Sophie suggested.

"What? And give him the tools to my own destruction? He's tricky and manipulative!"

"Which is why Howl and I are going to speak to him first," Sophie told her gently. "But we need to know where you stand. You've stated that you are interested in a relationship that will culminate in a lifelong marriage. You've also stated that you're cautious of his manipulations and high handedness with regards to you. Would it be fair for us to present these as issues?"

"He's either going to play you like a fiddle and pretend to be saintly all the way, or he's going to argue everything and make it somehow my fault."

"Or," Calcifer crackled, "he'll negotiate your betrothal contract. What is your bride price?"

"What?" Sarah croaked. "I'm not chattel to be sold!"

"Cultural misunderstanding," Howl put in sharply. "They do not have that custom among her people in America." He turned to Sarah. "It is a respectful custom amongst those who practice it. For those cultures who pay the bride price to the woman's family, it honours the parents of the bride for the time and money taken to raise the girl and also recompense for the labour now that she's left the family. For those whose cultures set aside money for the girl to take into the marriage, it is to set her up in the manner she is accustomed so that she might not lack what comforts she is used to on starting a new family. There are those cultures who do buy and sell brides, but I am sure it can be explained to him that this is not your custom, and that a marriage will accord you equality."

Sarah stared blankly at Howl.

"I'm, I'm, damn. He's a fae king, a powerful fae king, he's going to fight that equality every step of the way!"

"So far, it sounds as if you're winning," Calcifer chirped.

Sarah grimaced.

"That isn't helping. He's got an ego the size of the planet, it's got to be festering and he's going to find a way to get back at me for it."

"That, again, is why we need to speak with him," Sophie put in calmly. "We don't need to settle everything tonight. In fact much of this is just conjecture, we need to bring both of you to the table to discuss these things. Don't you think he'd appreciate an explanation on the cultural differences?"

With a groan, Sarah let her head sink to the table as she dragged her fingers through her hair.

"He's going to hit the roof! I thought the Labyrinth fight was bad, this is going to be awful!"

"We will be there," Sophie murmured.

Sarah let out a long ragged breath.

"Oddly enough, that's really comforting," she admitted sincerely.

* * *

She lay in bed that evening watching the shadows Calcifer's light flickered across the ceiling. She felt somehow both terrified and buoyant. It had never crossed her mind how freeing it was to talk the oddities of the Labyrinth, magic and the insanity that was knowing Jareth with people who truly understood. She had not loved her family before her encounter with the Labyrinth. She'd admired her mother to the point of hero worship, loathed her stepmother, found her father too weak, and Toby was just an irritation. Yet, she'd grown to love Toby with a passion she would never have had had she not almost lost him. However, Howl, for all he might be her second cousin, was better family than all who had raised her. Perhaps it was just discovering someone who both listened and understood. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

The next morning Howl showed her how his multi-exit front door worked. It was rather like her mirrors, only he had preset the various exits, whereas she could state the name of the person in the Labyrinth she wanted to see. Hers was more versatile, but depended on the availability of the other person. Howl's was fixed yet more accessible. Sophie and Michael stayed home that day to deal with Howl's regular customers, and she followed him back to Megan's place in Wales.

"I see you've met my layabout brother?" Megan said as she didn't greet him but plucked up a folder of bills and forms and smacked them against Howl's chest.

"Good to see you too, Megan," Howl grumbled, but plucked the folder out of her hands and marched indoors calling for his nephew and niece. He found them in the kitchen eating breakfast and settled in to have a bowl of cereal himself, as if he hadn't eaten a full plate of toast, eggs and bacon that very morning.

"Was he any help with the ward? He probably talked you out of it, didn't he? Can't be bothered to do any actual work, can he?"

Sarah blinked.

"Didn't you say that he'd help me?"

"Well, has he?" she asked.

Sarah opened her mouth then shut it.

"See? The thing with this whole magic thing of his, is that while is apparently does things, it's all talk. Empty talk. He didn't try charge you did he?"

Sarah shook her head dumbly.

"I thought you believed me?"

"I do," Megan said gently. "And I agree you needed to talk to Howell, but, now that you've done so, what is your perspective on this ward business? Has he given you any true way that you couldn't have found yourself to be about it?"

Sarah was speechless. Howl's sister thought she knew magic, and thought she knew her brother. Yet she clearly didn't understand magic, or her brother.

"You sent me through a window," Sarah said. "That was some quite powerful linking magic."

"It's one of his tricks; he's got a door that goes all sorts of places. Useful, but not really as the destinations are fixed. You still need a car to drive places. Magic is purported to be the be all and end all, yet it's actually very limited. Look at him now, filling out his tax forms with a biro, shouldn't magic just be a click of the fingers and it's all done?"

"That's not how it works," Sarah shook her head. "I suppose he could, but he'd have to double check all the forms to see if some stray thought hadn't ended up on it. It's honestly easier just to write it out."

"What's the point of magic if it has limits?" Megan asked the question clearly rhetorical as she turned away and headed back to the kitchen to supervise her children.

* * *

Howl drove the kids to school, then took them into town. Sarah changed her travellers checks for pounds and bought some souvenirs for Toby and wrote him a postcard. She also sent one to her mother, Linda would appreciate her being in a foreign country. After that, she wandered the High street for most of the morning, then took lunch at a small fish and chips shop on the corner. She met Howl at the middle of the afternoon outside the bakery as they had arranged. He opened the passenger door for her looking tired and rather disgruntled.

They drove off through the narrow streets of the town back to where Megan lived.

"I was right; I'm going to have to come back tomorrow. I'll have Sophie show you Market Chipping, as I'm sure you don't want to hang around with my charming sister."

"She was nice until I arrived back," Sarah said, a little hurt. "I don't think she understands magic at all. She dismisses it as tricks, not as something you live with."

"It's why I don't stay in the house, our parents left it to us jointly, but her company is wearisome after a bit. However, as long as I can link a door to the house, I'll not be so crass as to charge her rent."

"Family," Sarah said with feeling.

"Glad you understand," Howl agreed whole-heartedly.


	5. Chapter 5

That evening Howl produced a pack of cards and they sat playing crazy eights until Michael's bedtime. The interrogation Sarah expected was rather more invasive this time. Sophie drew her off to sit on her bed in the nook below the stairs and sat with a list of questions that she put to her. Sarah answered as truthfully as possible, but some questions just threw her.

"How many children do I want? What sort of question is that?"

"A valid one," Sophie said pointedly.

"I always thought I'd have three children, two girls and a boy. But that is just a dream, you can't order a girl or a boy, you are blessed with what you get. And then what if there's a whoops and you end up with four children? Do you want to tell the fourth child they were a mistake? There was this boy in my junior school whose mother wouldn't let up about it, horrid woman, and he's now all kinds of bitter about it. Then what if his royal highness thinks only one is enough, or twenty! That's something we have to discuss!"

She fell silent, stunned at her own words.

"I don't believe I am talking about having children with that jerk!"

"It might not ever come to that," Sophie soothed. "We just want to be very clear where you stand in all this, so we may face him with clarity."

A blissful thought occurred to her.

"Please tell me we're sending in Howl to ask him all these questions? If so, can we set up a video camera before hand, I want to see his reactions."

"What is a video camera?" Sophie asked cautiously.

"It's a tool that allows us to record images and sound and then to replay them."

"A little like a scrying bowl that can drag through the past?" Sophie frowned.

"Yes, except you don't need magic to use it."

"Would you want him to see your reactions?"

"Of course not, he'd find a way to use it against me!"

"Then why do you not offer him the same courtesy?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and looked away. Sophie had a very valid point. It just took the fun out of things.

"As much as a relationship is enjoyable, it is not a game, Sarah," Sophie said.

"Everything he touches becomes a game to him," she complained defensively.

"You feel as though he is controlling things like a puppet master?" Sophie asked.

"Yeah, but a twitch of the string here, will only make the puppet do that there hours later, and I'll not see it and get all tangled up and not able to be myself."

Sophie made a note.

"Stuff courtesy, I'm setting up that camera," Sarah breathed.

"That's your fear talking," Sophie pointed out.

"Or my very logical and rational knowledge of one feisty fae!"

* * *

Howl wasn't there the next morning and Sophie spent several minutes convincing Calcifer to bend his head so she could fry bacon. They went down to Market Chipping and put their heads in at the very busy bake shop where Sophie's sister worked. They didn't stop to greet her as it was packed, but Sophie pointed out Lettie Hatter, a pretty young girl about Sarah's age. She admitted that she was her stepsister and that her father had remarried. Sarah trailed after Sophie with vast respect for Sophie's old man, catching a wife at his old age, impressive.

They also visited the hat shop, and found it open and also busy. Sophie pointed out her stepmother, who had to be in her late thirties, yet looked only in her mid twenties. Her estimate of the late Mr Hatter went up further. Then again, her father had remarried. Suddenly she wasn't so impressed. Sarah followed Sophie around town, as she showed them her old haunts. They ate ice cream in the park, walked across several train bridges, and in and out of the various speciality stores that sold things like fancy lace and buttons. They then visited the stationers where Michael bought a few more notebooks for himself, and finally they hit the town markets for that night's supper.

* * *

Howl was busy chalking various marks all over the room when they arrived.

"Don't step on them," Michael warned as they brought the boxes with vegetables through to the kitchen area. With half an eye over her shoulder at Howl's antics, she helped Sophie prepare the soup. Once supper was eaten, Howl sent Michael up to his room early, saying he could read in bed until his usual hour. Michael clearly had a book waiting as he darted up the stairs.

Sarah fidgeted at the very serious expression Howl turned on her.

"We've gathered all we can, but we need to prepare a few things. First on our agenda is the door. I've thought of two options, which would be best? That we set up a door into your room, using your own bedroom door. This would give us direct access to your house, but it would mean you could not easily explain our presence if the others in your house did not see us arrive. The other option is to open a location door nearby. Are there any abandoned, unused houses near enough to comfortably walk?"

"There's the old haunted barn on the hill, but the local teenagers use it for their smoking hideout."

"No, this is a great deal of effort. The link is going to be permanent. It'll need to be as you'll be visiting for lessons. Any house or even a stretch of wall where it wouldn't look out of place for a door to a house to appear."

Sarah thought hard.

"In Sunwise Avenue, two streets away from us is an empty house, number fifteen. It has really bad termite problems, so they haven't been able to sell it, but it's not so bad that they have to demolish it. It does belong to someone, so you'll have to buy it, but with the termite issues, the price will be very low."

"That sounds very promising. Can you visualise it?"

"Yes, a group of my friends did a photo shoot on the veranda a few months back. It had this shabby pealed paint look."

"Think of the front door, can you see it in your mind?"

Sarah nodded.

"Then come and stand here with both your feet in the circle. Picture the image of the door very clearly. The door as it is seen from the street. Got it?"

She could feel the surge of magic rise up around her and focused as hard as she could as Howl came around behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. The surge shot through her and splashed out through the room and she felt a sudden sensation of something slot into place. Howl released her and darted to the door. It now had five spots on it, instead of four. He turned it to orange spot and pulled the door open. Sarah gasped as outside she saw the very street two blocks from her house.

"This it?" Howl checked.

"Yeah," she said in soft wonder.

He shut it, then walked up the stairs and sank into the chair before the fire.

"Forming new doorways always takes it out of me," he settled his boots onto the hearth then dropped two logs on for Calcifer.

Oddly Calcifer burned low and without much enthusiasm, but Howl didn't seem to worry.

"The next thing is what we discuss with your family."

"My family?" Sarah squeaked. "They know nothing about the Labyrinth! If my stepmother hears anything of how I wished Toby away, my life isn't going to be worth living!"

Howl frowned at her.

"Then how will you explain yourself if this fae of yours proves amenable? It wouldn't do to just elope and leave your family. What of your brother?"

Sarah sank onto the stool in front of the hearth and stared at Calcifer's flickering flames with growing horror.

"At a pinch, I could feed an edited story to my father, but not anything to my stepmother."

"No," Howl declared.

"You don't have to live with them!" Sarah snapped.

"No, and for the simple reason that they are family. You are wishing to create a new life perhaps, and you are wishing to understand your gift. You will need their support."

"And I see you getting along just fine with Megan!" Sarah sneered.

"She knows about my magic," Howl retorted. "She might not understand or believe much, but she knows."

"Fine, I'll tell my father everything, boy is he going to ground me for the rest of my life. But only a heavily edited version for my stepmother, oh no, what do I tell Toby? Hey little brother, I thought you were such a pain I wished you away?"

"And then fought a very powerful fae to get him back," Sophie added. "It might be a shock, but your brother, if he is gifted, needs to know the whole truth. If not, it is still only fair, as the goblins he plays with will surely leak the tale soon enough."

That last idea had her in a cold sweat. Did Toby know what she had done? She put her head into her hands and groaned.

They spent the next hour going over what she would say. She had just sunk onto the stool again, after delivering her speech to Sophie while Howl scrabbled in the yard outside for things. He returned dragging a wooden crate of items.

"This," he said with a heavy voice, "is if things go badly."

"What is it?" Sarah asked and her eyes shot up as she saw a nail gun, bags of iron nails, and a stack of iron horse shoes with sigils drawn on them.

"You can't let him know you have that," she breathed in rising horror. Iron against fae, she had always known that, but whatever Howl had done to it was worse. She could feel the eerie dreadful cold radiating from it.

"No we cannot. It is our last resort. This is the ward you asked for. What it will do, is disconnect your entire world plain from that of his Kingdom. You will never again be able to access it. You will never again see your friends. You will also earn his eternal enmity, so would have to wear iron into every plain you walk, because his goblins have access there, and he will find you."

Sarah felt physically sick at that.

"No," she breathed, "no. My will is as strong as his, and my kingdom is as great. It will not come to this if I have to pound it into his head for the next ten years until he learns to behave!"

Howl stood up and kneaded his back with his thumbs.

"Then let us all get some rest, tomorrow is likely to be very busy."

* * *

Sarah tossed and turned all night. She woke at three in the morning and bundled a blanket around her hands against the radiating cold and with all her strength shoved the thrice damned box of iron back outside into the yard. Shutting the door honestly helped. She fell into a shallow sleep, but it was better than it had been.


	6. Chapter 6

She woke the next morning, tired, but with that sharp alertness only acute nerves could bring. She had last felt like this before her high school finals. She picked at the sumptuous breakfast of bacon, eggs, beans, and buttered toast and jam while the others consumed theirs with gusto. Once Sarah was dressed in her clothes from the States they double-checked the lists. Howl dragged that awful crate back inside to stand next to Calcifer. Sarah kept to the far side of the room. Howl, Sophie and Michael wore their usual clothes, they would look rather old fashioned, but the neighbourhood knew Sarah Williams and her love of costume, so they wouldn't look twice at her friends.

Howl gestured for her to lead the way. She took a deep breath and felt no less frazzled after letting it out.

"C'mon feet," she murmured to herself and twisted the knob on the door to the orange dot and opened it. They looked out at Sunwise Avenue. She smiled; it was America, in all its sunny glory at nine in the morning.

"Let's do this." Sarah marched out and the others followed.

It only occurred to her as she walked up the stairs to her father's house that she had told them she would be in Wales for another week. Then she realised what she was about to tell them and figured that would be a very minor detail.

She knocked and then pushed the door open. Her brother was in the living room with the television on. Toby idly looked away from morning cartoons, then leaped up and ran over to hug Sarah.

"I didn't know you'd be back!" he grinned at her.

"I didn't know either, but I met our distant relatives. This is Howell Jenkins, he's a Wizard and he lives in Wales and some other place."

"Ingary," Howl supplied.

"A real wizard?" Toby eyed him. "Sarah," he said in a stage whisper, "he looks kind of like, you know, well, him."

"He does, doesn't he?" Sarah ground out a bit wearily; the Goblins clearly had told Toby all about their flighty King. Howl wore his harlequin coat, loose shirt and black trousers that he had worn on the first day.

"I must admit a great curiosity to see this gentleman," Sophie said with aplomb as she leaned on her stick.

Sarah introduced them to her brother, then headed towards the kitchen where she could hear her father and stepmother speaking.

She put her head around the door.

"Hi?" she said, and from the way her father's smile dropped off his face she knew she looked very guilty.

"Sarah!" He called, standing immediately. "I'd not expected you back for another week!"

"Still only coming back then. This is a sort of family, come major confession type visit. Can you join us in the living room?"

"Major confession?" Karen asked, her eyes flickering to Sarah's stomach with alarm.

"I'm not pregnant," Sarah said drily and swung herself away from the wall. She walked over to her friends in the hall and waved to the various chairs in the living room.

"Have a seat, everyone will be through now. Toby, can you turn off the cartoons? I'll give you some bucks to go to the rental store later."

"Sure!" Toby darted across and switched off the TV. Michael shook his head dazedly as he realised he'd been staring.

* * *

Howl, Sophie and Michael all sat on the long couch. Toby sat closest to Michael in the recliner. Her father and stepmother sat in the single couch chairs and she took her place on the large pouffe, then decided she was far too nervous to sit so stood and paced. She turned sharply and faced them.

"Dad, you know that address of your cousin in Wales that you gave me, and that I went to visit his daughter?"

"Kenneth Jenkins? You'd said he'd passed and it was Megan you were to see?"

"Yes, we met, and I met the rest of her family."

"Ah," her father eyed the newcomers on the couch, his eyes flickering dubiously over Sophie.

"Well, it wasn't really her I went to visit. It was her brother Howell. He came to visit us because he wanted to meet the family. This is Howell Jenkins, his ward Michael Fisher and housekeeper Sophie Hatter. Guys, this is my father Robert Williams, stepmother Karen Williams and baby brother –"

"Hey!"

"Toby Williams."

Her father stood and extended his hand to Howl, who reciprocated with an enthusiastic shake. After a few rounds of polite exchanges, they settled again. Only Sarah could feel the tension rising. She took a deep breath and placed her copy of the Labyrinth on the coffee table between them. Toby took one look and clapped his hands over his face.

"That's not a major confession, Sarah! That's a blow up the whole world confession!"

Michael sniggered and Sarah glowered at Toby.

"You're not making it any easier, Toby!"

Toby dragged his fingers down his face then shook his hand in the manner of showing someone they were in trouble.

"It is a secret!"

"For all of us here, yes it is, we can all share the secret now."

Toby considered this and gave a grudging nod.

"Then the goblins can watch morning cartoons with me?"

"If all goes well, then yes," Sarah agreed with a sigh.

"Goblins?" Her father exclaimed.

"Yeah, there's one right there." Toby pointed, and sure enough a goblin was sitting in the flower pot near the window, sunning his belly in the morning light.

Karen gave a hoarse gasp and leaped onto her chair as if that would save her. Sarah gaped at her elegant stepmother, having only ever seen the same reaction when a mouse got in the kitchen.

"What is that? Where did it come from? Is it some kind of mutated cat?"

The goblin lifted its head and gave her a hurt stare.

"Some kind of mutated cat?" it protested.

Karen's legs collapsed and she sat down hard with a thump.

"It talks," she said numbly.

"Sarah, if I may?" Howl said, and gestured for her to sit.

She perched on the edge of the pouffe, too jittery to relax.

"Come here," Howl called to the goblin. "What's your name?"

"Raggy," he said and stood beside Howl's leg.

"What are you doing in this house?"

"We's allowed to be here, Lady invited us all! You's all magical but this not your house, so we's not listening to you."

"Indeed. Do you mind going to wait in Toby's room until we're done, and make sure your other friends leave us in peace for now?"

"Lady?" Raggy glanced at Sarah.

"Please?"

Raggy sighed.

"You be telling us about major confession, we want to hear it too!"

"Later, I promise, it will be all over the kingdom!"

That seemed to satisfy the goblin and he headed out of the room. Shortly afterwards three others followed from various hiding places. By the time he reached the stairs there were eight of them.

"How many of those things are there?" Karen breathed, her arms tucked around her knees.

"Hundreds? Thousands? Not too many in the house though," Toby said.

"Why?"

"Because of me," Sarah said quietly. She gave her second cousin a nod and he sat gracefully. She was grateful to Howl for the interlude, as she had needed it to focus. She stood up, but this time she was calm.

"Five years ago, I babysat Toby one night."

"I remember that night," her father said. "It was as if you matured overnight."

"I did. Literally," she said. "I have a talent for words. That night I was angry and resentful of my duty, so I wished Toby away to the Goblin King."

"You wished me away?" Toby sat up, his face lit with awe! "You mean I'm a wish away?" A puzzled frown crossed his face. "Why aren't I a goblin?"

"Because I faced the Goblin King, ran his Labyrinth and won you back," Sarah said grimly.

"Woah!" Toby breathed in awe.

"What does he mean, why isn't he a goblin?" Karen said in an anxious whisper.

"It's the contract," Howl explained. "If a child is wished away to the Goblin King, he is entitled to that child and he usually turns them into goblins. However, the one who wished the child away can win them back. Which Sarah did, breaking the old the contract and creating a new one."

"How do you know this? Who are you, why are you involved in this?" Karen stuttered, clearly trying to gain her bearings.

"I am a Wizard of the Court of the King of Ingary, my residence in this plane is in Wales, where Sarah visited in this last week. I am here to answer technical questions."

"A Wizard?" Toby gasped. "Can you do magic? Like turn people into toads?"

"I could, but what use would that be? Do you want to be a toad?"

"Eew, no."

"Prove it!" Karen breathed.

"You just saw a goblin!" Sarah protested.

"No, let me show her a few things," Howl said quietly. "She needs someone to trust in the world that's turned upside down."

He took a deep breath then flung out his hand and all at once the chairs began floating up from where they had stood.

"You can make things fly! You're the best cousin ever!" Toby sagged somewhat when Howl lowered the chairs with a light thump.

Howl then clapped his hands together and tiny little sparks flickered into existence around them and as he spread out his hands the sparks formed Toby's name.

"Can you teach me to do that?" Toby almost fell out of the chair in eagerness.

"I've been learning for three years already and I can't even get one spark. He's making it look easy, but it's so haaard!" Michael whined at Toby.

"You're learning?" Toby spun around in his chair and launched himself at his father.

"Can I learn magic, please, pretty please, I'll even clean my room and empty the trash every day!"

Robert caught his son's shoulders and held him in place until he stopped bouncing like a maniac.

"We will discuss this and many things later, go and sit, we want to hear what your sister has to say."


	7. Chapter 7

Having briefly explained and demonstrated magic, Howl sketched a brief bow to Karen and seated himself. Sarah fidgeted as their attention returned to her.

"As I said, I wished Toby away, and well, had to get him back. There were two major obstacles. One was this maze–"

"Labyrinth," Toby corrected eagerly.

"Labyrinth I had to run. It was full of pitfalls and traps."

"And Oubliettes," Toby chirped. "They're nasty places to put people and forget about them. Hoggle told me all about them."

"They're one of the traps; let me tell the story, Toby."

He nodded his head too fast, still jittery and excited.

"The other was –"

"The Goblin King!" Toby threw his hands up in the air.

"Toby!"

"Sorry!" he grinned sheepishly.

"You get thirteen hours to navigate the Labyrinth, but I stupidly back-chatted the Goblin King and ended up with only ten."

"I think I'd like to meet this Goblin King," her father mused, "he seems to teach lessons that stick."

Sarah cringed.

"Getting to that," she evaded, "I had to run the Labyrinth, so I managed to talk several of His Majesties servants into helping me. I'd have not made it without them. With their aid, encouragement and, quite frankly, bravery in defying the Goblin King, I won through. I had the right words, managed to say them, and won Toby back. That should have been that. The end of things. Only, I'd made friends there. The goblins, whom you've met, are the most numerous of the citizens, but there are also dwarfs, terriers and other creature like beings. I invited them back here. They've been able to visit our house ever since."

Even Karen seemed to be taking this fairly well; only, her father noticed the elephant in the room.

"What of this Goblin King fellow?"

"Yeah, about him," Sarah fidgeted and glanced at Howl. "A little background on the fae?"

She sat as Howl leaned forward.

"A brief overview of how the Wizards understand existence. This planet we're standing on and the universe that hold it, are but one of many such places, we call them planes. Sarah accessed an adjacent plane where a diverse group of people live. You may know them from folk tales as the fae, or fairies."

"Fairies are real?" Karen breathed with soft awe.

"You just saw one mom," Toby pointed out, "the goblin?"

"You mean they aren't those pretty little things with wings?" Karen sounded disappointed.

"Oh there are some just like that, nasty things," Sarah said uncharitably, "they bite."

This seemed to throw Karen for a bit.

"Just a moment," Robert said, "if I know my folk tales, and I last looked at them when I was a boy so the memory is a bit rusty, aren't fairies best left alone? Some are kind, some are not, and others are downright dangerous."

"Enter the Goblin King," Sarah declared with aplomb, "he's the downright dangerous kind."

"You are correct," Howl nodded to Robert, "and this is where things get difficult."

"He can access our house and he's angry with Sarah for having beaten him at his own game?" Robert gazed at Sarah with steadily rising alarm.

"Woah, and I thought it would be hard to explain that to you," she marvelled.

"Once you get your head around the concept that magic is real, everything else falls into place," Robert said drily. "So, what's wrong? Why have you invited a Wizard here?"

"Two reasons," Sarah admitted. "One, to introduce him to the family, he is our second cousin, and two to tell you that I have magic and he says I have to be trained in its use as I'm breaking all kind of magical rules unknowingly."

"The goblins, they're not supposed to be here," Robert concluded.

"Right in one," Sarah sighed.

"So we'll be seeing quite a bit more of you then?"

"Yes," Howl nodded. "I'm going to have to inspect the house and see what Sarah has done to connect the two planes as she has. It'll take a few weeks of me being around, but I'll stay out of your way and arrange visits beforehand so we don't surprise any guests who wouldn't understand magic."

"As I understand it, this connecting planes business is quite difficult magic?"

"Some of the most complex and dangerous," Howl informed him. "Yet it is one of Sarah's gifts to be able to simplify exceedingly complex concepts into a few words. For this reason alone I have to train her."

"But there is more?" Karen knew an evasion when she heard one.

Howl glanced at Sarah and gestured to her.

"The Goblin King," Sarah sighed.

"The way you go on, he should be at this meeting with us," Robert gave a teasing smile.

"No!" Toby declared. "He'd probably bog us if we said something he didn't like!"

"Bog you?"

"Yeah, you get chucked into the Bog of Eternal Stench that smells worse than twenty farts–"

"Tobias Williams!"

"Sorry mom!" Toby cringed. "It's really really stinky and if you end up in it, you stink for the rest of your life."

Sarah nodded when her father glanced at her to check the veracity of Toby's statements.

"So this Goblin King fellow won't be too happy if you close these doors you've opened?"

"Nope," Sarah sighed.

She glanced at Howl; Sophie gave her an encouraging nod. She nervously picked at her fingers then took a deep breath.

"Then there is the last thing, and please don't freak out."

"You now have me officially worried," Robert sat up straight and attentive.

"Oh Sarah," Karen said softly, but her eyes grew pinched and anxious.

Sarah blinked.

"Whatever you are imagining, it probably isn't that," Sarah didn't like how upset she was.

"You said you had changed the contract to get Toby back. Did you offer yourself in return?"

"What? No!" Sarah half laughed. "I did the equivalent of stomping on his foot and kneeing him in the bollocks. He has no power over me. But, at the same time, by that very action, well, he's now very interested in me."

Karen's face went pale and Robert shot to his feet.

"Over my dead body!"

"Dad! Revoke that! Oh please don't let him have heard!" Sarah grabbed her father's arm in utter panic.

"Calm," Howl called sternly over the room, "there are minor wards in place, he cannot overhear, just as the Goblins upstairs cannot."

"You mean he has the power to reach across from wherever he lives and kill people in another place?"

"Yes," Howl said simply. "However, that would be against the Goblin King's nature. He collects life, he does not destroy it."

"And what of my little girl that has all his attention?"

"Well, that's for her and His Majesty to negotiate. It is the other reason I am here, to facilitate that."

"No! I'm not having some air addled fae stealing my daughter!"

"Dad! Please!" Sarah tugged on his arm and he very reluctantly returned to his chair.

He sat there, slightly stunned and shaken, then gazed up at her.

"I don't like this."

"I know," she squeezed his shoulder.

"The magic, I can handle that. The Wizard, he comes with the territory. The goblins, well they're ugly beggars, but they're just another critter underfoot. This King, you didn't speak one good thing about him, and now you tell me he's got plans for you? How am I supposed to react?"

Sarah took a deep breath.

"He sings really well. He dances like a dream. He's a King and full of himself. He's also very handsome."

"I like him even less," Robert said flatly.

"You never liked any of my boyfriends, get over it," Sarah snapped, at the end of herself.

"Boyfriend?" her father roared.

"Sarah!" Karen cried, "Is he why you haven't been dating the boys in your year?"

"What? No! I've been telling him to get lost all year!"

"All year? He's been hanging around you all year?"

"No, he's been hanging around since I won Toby back. Five years."

"Oh," Robert processed this. "What has changed that now you reveal all this to us?"

"A few things," Sarah eyed her father; he was sitting on the edge of his chair as if ready to run off to find the Goblin King and make him regret being born.

"The most obvious is that I found out about magic and that I need to learn how to use it responsibly. Because of that, I can't have all these doorways to the Goblin King's plane. That requires me to close access, or vastly restrict access back and forth. He's grown used to it and will resent the restrictions, so we're going to have to negotiate that. And lastly, there is some link with my magic and his, and we don't know what it is. We're going to have to have his help in figuring it out. As much as 'hey he's cute, I might date him,' might explain some things, it's just the tip of the ice berg."

"They do that don't they, the Fairies," Robert puzzled out, "trick you till you're beholden to them and then reel you in."

"Some do, but he can't actually do anything to me. Our powers sort of cancel each other's out. That's part of what we're exploring. He's one of the few exceptionally powerful High Fae out there, and if I'm anything like his equal, I not only need to learn what I'm doing, but I need to learn how to protect myself if other challengers for my power come along. So far I've been lucky, and there haven't been any, but…"

"He's been protecting you, all this time," Karen breathed.

Sarah blinked.

Her thoughts all slammed into a solid wall.

Her mouth dropped open in horror.

"Oh, he wouldn't!" she gasped and stamped her foot. "Wait till I get my hands on his glittery ass, I'm going to punt it right across the Labyrinth!"

"Your stepmother has a rather valid point," Sophie observed.

Sarah groaned and sank down on the pouffe.

"And wring his scrawny neck!"


	8. Chapter 8

Silence descended on the living room. Sarah was too infuriated to think straight. The very idea that Jareth had been protecting her unknowingly just stuck in her craw. He had better not think that his action meant she owed him in any way, slippery irksome fae.

"I will need to speak to Wizard Howl about many things, but before this is over, I want an interview with this Goblin King," Robert said a touch too calmly.

"Okay," Sarah agreed, too exhausted to argue.

"Is he the sort of person I would approve of?"

"Hell, er heck no!" Sarah grimaced.

"Is he all squat and hairy?"

Toby snorted at that then almost fell out of the chair laughing.

As it was, Sarah had to take a few deep breaths to get over her laughter.

"No, Dad. He'd be very offended to hear you ask that. He's about the vainest person you've ever met. He looks mostly human."

"Mostly?"

"Pointed teeth, weird eyebrows, hair like a lions main," Toby informed them.

"When did you meet him?" Sarah asked with sudden rising alarm.

"Like every time you get into a row with him? You're really loud. Last time she threw a book at his head, it must have hurt, 'cause he was wiping away tears and pretending not to."

Sarah gulped and officially felt awful.

"How can he be this powerful magic creature if he can cry and get hurt?" Robert asked in bewilderment.

"They're immortal, not invulnerable," Howl explained.

"Immortal," Robert croaked. "This doesn't get any easier, does it?"

"It takes a few knocks before you learn to just follow along and accept what comes," Sophie said and smiled fondly at Howl.

"I take it things are as crazy keeping house for a wizard?" Karen asked.

"Never a dull day and plenty of infuriating ones," Sophie nodded.

"Amen to that," Robert sighed. He shook his head.

"Is that everything, Sarah?"

She nodded.

"Then I think Howl and I need a few minutes in the den, and we can think this over for the rest of the day. Oh, and I want every goblin and other creature in this house downstairs after I've spoken with Howl. I want to meet them too."

"Cool! I'll go find everyone!" Toby shot out of his chair, then skidded in the hall and turned to Michael. "Want to help?"

The two boys headed upstairs at a run.

* * *

Howl and Robert left the women in the living room. Robert closed the door to the den and Howl lightly traced his finger on it. Robert frowned at him.

"You did something," he said cautiously.

"I put up a ward. You're a magical sensitive, though not an adept," Howl smiled, "it is through you that Sarah and Toby have the gift of magic."

"So I can sense it, but have no magic myself?"

"Correct," Howl walked over to the chairs before the desk and took a seat. Robert sat opposite him.

"Before you say anything, let me explain something," Howl said.

Robert leaned back, and closed his mouth.

"This is an exceedingly delicate situation."

"Delicate? Is this magic dangerous to Sarah?"

"All magic is dangerous, and Sarah's particular gift is exceedingly powerful, so yes. However, that is a minor concern to us. The delicacy lies in the person of the Goblin King."

Robert leaned forward with a scowl.

"I've half a mind to have a restraint order taken out against him!"

"It's what Sarah came to me to do," Howl said bleakly.

Robert gaped at him.

"Is he bad news?"

"I am hoping with everything I have that he is not. I made a ward to raise against him, should he prove dangerous. However, it will be have to be frequently renewed depending on his power and his method of attack. Only, he controls time, and there are very few beings who can counter that, and I know no human or demon who can. The ward will be a stopgap until he works a way around it, and then we face his ire and frustration at our defiance. At Sarah's defiance. We won't know peace for the rest of our lives. He will come after you and your family, and me and mine for my part in it."

Robert gaped at him in horror.

"What can you do?" Robert croaked. "Sarah's in danger!"

"We have one recourse which may turn out to be the best thing that has happened to Sarah, when one considers her situation."

"What? Have her go with this man? Goblin? Whatever he is!"

Howl grimaced.

"No, and yes."

"Family or no, you are walking on very thin ice, Mr Jenkins," Robert ground out.

"Hear me out," Howl breathed. "I am in a worse situation than you. Sarah has a magical gift beyond what even Calcifer has ever seen. We can only guide her in certain parts, but for the most of it, she will need his aid."

"You mean to recruit him to teach her."

"No, sir, I mean to entreat him to marry her. She has confessed she is partial to him, and he to her, bar several cultural misunderstandings."

"What?" Robert roared and Howl flinched back in his chair.

"Think about it," Howl snapped, suddenly stern. "Would you prefer a chance for Sarah to find happiness, the guidance and schooling her gift needs, and the protection of possibly one of the most powerful beings in existence bar the gods themselves?"

Robert gaped at him incredulously.

"Sarah's story made him sound sort of silly," he grumbled.

"He's fae, they are silly. They generally have the attention span of a goldfish, unless something catches their attention. Then they are as relentless as a dog after a bone."

"How can he be silly and have so much power?"

"It's a coping mechanism," Howl said softly, his eyes distant, thinking of Calcifer. "It is lonely with such power, and a lighter personal nature draws those of a lesser power, but of good companionship to their side. He's king of the goblins, you can't get a sillier people than they, all mischief and mayhem. They suit him perfectly. Only, he met Sarah and she challenged him in the heart of his domain and won."

"And he took exception to that?"

"In a sense," Howl scratched at his hair awkwardly. "If Sarah were fae, that would usually end in her killing him and taking over his kingdom. That is expected. Only, she did a very odd thing. She raised her power against his and they balanced each other out. Then just walked away, leaving him in the lurch."

"How did she do that?" Robert exclaimed. "You said she needs training, but she can do that!"

"It's the difference between a rote answer and truly calculating the answer," Howl explained. "Someone gave her the book of the Labyrinth, the key to his kingdom and his power. She used its formulas against him, and they worked, without her comprehension of what she had done."

"Her mother," Robert recalled, "it was the last birthday present she gave her before we settled on a divorce. Linda said a woman gave it to her at a gala, to give to her daughter. Sarah's always loved fairy tales, and particularly loved this one."

Howl sat back in his chair.

"You think it was a plant? Is that his doing? To catch my Sarah?"

"No. He would never reveal the key to his power. No fae would. Someone is watching over him, and thought Sarah his match. Which is true, she is, at least in what she's told me."

"So we have a mysterious third player, who no doubt will be even more upset with us than this Goblin King."

Howl slumped in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse," he whispered hopelessly.

Robert swallowed hard.

"What are fae like?" he asked cautiously.

"Silly and usually so involved in their own affairs that they don't bother with other realms. This one though, he sounds a mixture of their greatest traits and in a peculiarly benevolent way. Fae can be capricious, and he could have simply snatched her away and made her his. Only, he's respected the balance of power and has been attempting to court her and Sarah has ignored him, unaware of what he's doing."

"And this cannot continue?"

"It's not advisable. Something will give eventually, and your family will be caught in the fallout no matter what happens."

Robert contemplated the wizard before him. He looked too young for his title, but there was a wary emptiness to his eyes that spoke of having seen too much of the hurts of the world. As if he could no longer personally carry emotion, yet he continued to fight on the behalf of others, with no hope for himself.

"I can't give my blessing," Robert said finally. "Sarah will need to convince me first. Only when I see the joy in her eyes, will I even contemplate it."

Howl straightened.

"Thank you for at least listening." He sounded so tired, but he forced a calm smile on his face until the emotion settled over him and touched his eyes.

Robert could only nod once in response.

* * *

Sarah, Sophie and Karen remained seated around the coffee table in the living room.

"Sophie gave me the recipe for the best chutney," Sarah declared and slid the paper across to Karen. They spent the next few minutes discussing anything but magic, Goblin Kings and related topics. When goblins, two dwarves, and several tiny fairies trooped down the stairs after Toby, Karen tensed up again.

"They've been in the house all this time?" she whispered in dismay at observing the crowd in the hall.

"No, they come and go, but there are usually at least ten goblins about the house at any given time. There are probably more because Raggy couldn't keep his mouth shut about you finding out," Sarah explained.

"I think I need to go and lie down," Karen declared.

The crowd parted to allow her through and the door to the den opened just as she vanished upstairs. Her father had an odd expression on his face, as if he could not decide whether to rage or cry. It translated into something quite like banked sorrow, but when his eyes caught Sarah's, he smiled. Howl went to lean on the newel post and her father walked into the hall to stare down at the thirty or so little creatures there.

"You lot must be really good at hiding," he concluded, "five years and I've never noticed one of you!"

They erupted into cheers and clapping and little jigs on the spot.

"Magic accounts for half of that," Sarah said drily as she came up to stand beside him and there was a smattering of a chorused "Lady!"

"Show him how you hide from view,"

Abruptly there was no one in sight, but she could see the shift of air, and feel the dizzy sensation as the effort not to notice an area, made her look to another area she also should not notice.

"That's enough, thanks. You guys are great!"

They all reappeared, some looking more puffed than others.

"Most impressive," Robert declared. "I ask that when you're around me or my family that you're in sight though. If we have guests, stay hidden as is your custom."

"Dad, you do realise you're going to be watching superbowl surrounded by a literal hoard of goblins?"

"49ers!" Several goblins chorused then tried a cheerleading routine. Toby jumped into line with them and Michael watched from the stair, stunned.

"They support San Francisco?" he father breathed, incredulously.

"They support whoever last won," Sarah laughed, "or whoever last humorously fumbled the ball."

Toby danced off to turn on the television just then and there was a mass exodus to join in the Saturday morning cartoon ritual. Toby saved a space for Michael and the goblins covered the rest. The two dwarves claimed the recliner and the fairies the top of the houseplant and they settled down to watch.

Howl inclined his head to Robert Williams and then turned to Sarah.

"Ready?"

She took a deep breath.

"This is going to be horrible," she tried to breath out her anxiety.

"What's happening?" Robert asked.

"We're summoning the Goblin King."


	9. Chapter 9

Sarah would never admit it to anyone, but she felt that the walk back to Howl's house felt both like a march to the gallows and a dance down the wedding aisle. Michael had remained with Toby to watch cartoons, and Sophie tottered slowly at Howl's side. How was it possible to be utterly terrified and deliriously excited all at once? Why didn't any of the others feel it, or were they acting as cool as she? Her stomach butterflies soon dropped like lead weights when Howl picked his way along the path around the side of the house to the overgrown back yard. She followed him as he softly spoke words in a language she had heard Megan speak to her children, Welsh. It was musical and liquid and he made it sound like poetry. She could feel the small intense clusters of magic wherever he settled his hand on the wooden fence. He must be setting strong wards if she could feel them. Then again, the castle had been overpowered by the fire demon's magic, so she wouldn't have noticed any human built wards there.

Howl did a circuit of the yard, and included the back wall of the house in it. Sophie had seated herself regally on the back step, her hand on her cane. Howl then surveyed the overgrown grass thoughtfully. With a negligent wave of his hand he directed her behind him, then with a gesture similar to that with which he had made all the chairs float, he made a sudden weight sag over the area and she stumbled forward as the world suddenly pulled her down. But before she fell, it was gone. In its place the grass now lay as if tramped flat by a herd of buffalo.

By this time Sarah was champing at the bit. She just wanted this over. Her nerves were killing her, and, she realised, making her twice as likely to take it out in a snarky argument with Jareth. She clenched her fists and tried the meditative breathing they had taught at yoga classes she had once attended. It worked, sort of, her mind calmed, though the lead butterflies in her stomach were learning to fly, painfully.

Howl then turned to her with an odd smile and almost sad expression in his blue eyes.

"Call him," he said and retreated to stand a few feet behind her.

She took a deep breath and realised with an icy douse of shock that she didn't need to. He was there, perched in a tree near the bottom of the neighbour's yard, watching. Had he been stalking them all this time? Oh, he was going to be in such a temper! She watched the barn owl in the tree. It watched her.

"Jareth," her voice was almost inaudible in the soft breeze of the morning, "I need you."

He launched himself up in an absolutely silent flight and with the grace of years of practice transformed and dropped to his feet not several paces before her.

"Do you now?" he growled coolly.

Sarah gulped. No. Jareth was taller than Howl. His wild mane of hair made him seem even taller. He was wearing his grey trousers, white shirt and metal pendant. Her eyes got stuck on his trousers for a moment and when she lifted her eyes, he was right in her face. His mismatched eyes blazing. Damn it! She'd forgotten all the carefully planned words. This was worse than forgetting her lines on stage, there was no one to prompt her.

"Who," he continued in his low, rumbling purr of a growl, "is this man?" He lifted his head and shot Howl such a glare that if looks could kill Howl would be cinders on the wind.

She then registered the sudden shock that flashed across his face.

"And what is he wearing?" Jareth sneered and threw out his hand toward Howl. "A pale human mockery of my own elegant attire?"

Had her wits not been so scrambled, she might have laughed, even Jareth noticed the similarities. Howl, for his part, looked distinctly put out. He said nothing, though.

"Is that it? You consort with petty mortals before my fine self, to the point of insisting their wardrobe mocks my own? Is he to be my replacement when you banish me from the mortal world, is that it Sarah?" he spat.

His replacement? Howl? Sarah promptly lost it in fury.

"Jareth!" What foolery what the pestilential fae thinking?

"Yes, precious thing?" he leaned so close their noses almost touched. She could feel his magic now, all sparks and lightning. She hadn't seen him so angry since her days in the Labyrinth.

"He's here to teach me magic." She tried for a reasonable tone, but it came out harsh and sharp.

Jareth staggered back at that. He gaped at Howl then turned to her with his arm half raised in an aborted gesture of frustration.

"A man, from Aboveground, to teach you magic? Do you think me so bereft in that field that I cannot?"

"No! But as you said he is human, and so am I, and I need to learn."

"Did you ever ask me to teach you?" he roared; though she could hear the way his voice broke.

"No, because I didn't know I needed a teacher!"

Jareth hunched his shoulders and glared at her, then stalked across to Howl with predatory grace.

Howl simply stood his ground, and sure enough about two paces away Jareth flinched and came to an abrupt halt. His snarl was so feral it sent shivers of icy fear down Sarah's back.

"You stink of demon fire and heart magic!" he spat at Howl.

"Fae," Howl returned with calm aplomb.

"She does not need you as a teacher!" Jareth ground out in a guttural growl. "Demons devour and curse the very thing they proclaim to create! You are not long for this world, mortal!"

Behind them, Sophie gasped and Sarah gaped at Howl in shock.

"True enough," Howl said with equanimity, "that is the nature of mortality."

Jareth drew back and cast an anxious, heart-wrenching glance at Sarah.

"Indeed, neither is she," Howl continued.

Jareth looked down at the ground with a wild desperation in his eyes that made Sarah hurry over to him. He stood shaking, his gloved fists clenched.

"Jareth," she said softly and touched his upper arm. He stilled, but did not look at her. "We've," she took a deep breath as her voice failed her. "We've come to talk. To negotiate, if you like. Do, do you think, er, do you think that you could listen for a while and hear what we have to say?" She hated how the exhaustion and craziness of the past few days chose now of all times to unsettle her.

He tilted his head and his eyes raked up and down her body, not in any lascivious manner, but as if to check that she was really there.

"You come to negotiate with me with a demon mage at your back?" he snapped, all prickly and defensive.

"Jareth, please, I promise you it will be worth your while."

He raised his head and glowered suspiciously at Howl.

"And he, what promise does he give that will bind him? Demons lie and their mages are as slippery as oiled eels!"

"I give no promise," Howl said, a little irked, "but I, like Sarah said, can give my word that it would be worth your while."

"For what it's worth, young fae," Sophie put in from where she perched on the back step, "it is after all your personal future we would discuss. We could do it without you, of course, but that would be quite rude, don't you think?"

"My personal future?" Jareth leaned to the side to peer around Howl at Sophie, but Howl neatly side stepped to block his view.

"Ouch," Jareth winced down at Howl, "her bindings are even nastier than the ones holding you!" He said in a soft undertone, and his eyes widened then. "Demon mage is it that you need Sarah's aid for," he nodded in Sophie's direction.

The instant misery on Howl's face rapidly cleared into one of fierce determination.

"Her aid, freely given, would be a boon," his voice shook slightly.

Jareth stepped back and Sarah released his arm. He skittishly regarded them all, his head tilting to the side. For a moment, he seemed more like an owl than a human.

He shook out his shoulders as if he were fluffing out wings and faced Howl. He then declaimed with all the imperious nature as a King.

"I would listen to the petitions you bring before me to hear which are worthy of my regard."

Howl raised an eyebrow at his attitude but said nothing.

"It's quite a bit of discussion, young fae," Sophie said. "Let us do it in comfort. Send these twitchy young things for chairs from the house and we shall sit and discuss things at our leisure."

Jareth examined her with bewilderment on his face, then a faint dawning of horrified understanding crossed his face. He turned away, sickened, and with his back to her murmured just loud enough for Howl to hear.

"The curse uses her own magic against her and infiltrates her mind."

"Ignore it," Howl grated almost inaudibly, "the more you enforce it, the tighter it grips her."

"Well," Jareth said imperiously with a petty dismissive wave of his hand, "you heard the lady, chairs!"

Sarah gaped at him in outrage, but Howl grabbed her wrist and tugged her along.


	10. Chapter 10

The moment they entered the door to the house, Sarah shuddered to feel Calcifer's harsh fire magic all about her. She had forgotten how, even despite his angry moments, Jareth's magic soothed like no other.

"You stink of fae! Can't you at least bathe before entering?" Calcifer complained.

"That's enough, Calcifer," Howl said absently, as he took the chair Sophie liked to sit in and the nearby stool. "I think we've got the Goblin King interested enough in Sophie to help with her curse."

Calcifer crackled up at that and burned brightly, shock evident in his flaming eyes.

"A fae who deigns to help others? Look very carefully for the barbs and traps!" he sneered.

"He'll have a debt to us, or at least Sophie, by the time we're done. That should keep him mostly forthcoming."

Calcifer spat and sank down about his logs to crackle imprecations about meddling fae.

Sarah took the short bench from the bathroom upstairs and grabbed the chair from Michael's desk. They soon were back outside. Howl helped Sophie into her chair and Sarah set out Michael's desk chair for Jareth. He did not sit until all of them had, Sarah took a seat on the half of the bench nearest Jareth. Howl perched on the stool beside Sophie.

"We would bring a few things to your attention, and then would enter negotiations," Sophie began with a regal tilt to her head as she leaned her aged hands on her walking stick.

"By all means, enlighten me," Jareth said with largesse.

"We shall first discuss human magic and its rules within the human realm."

"Why should this concern me?" Jareth asked in disdain. "You said these talks would deal with my personal future?"

"Let her tell you," Sarah murmured.

"She isn't saying anything!"

"Jareth, for once in your infinitely long life, shut up and listen!"

He gaped at her, his face going pink with outrage.

"I see your concern, dear," Sophie interrupted, speaking to Sarah "he is most quick to the incorrect conclusion."

"Excuse me?" Jareth choked and rounded on Sophie instead.

"No, dear, you are not excused. Be still. Listen. You have been told this will be to your benefit. Do you take Sarah's word at such little value that you don't believe her?"

Jareth's jaw hung open as he stared at Sophie, after a moment of trying to form words and failing he slumped inelegantly back in his chair.

"Be about your petition," he ground out.

"Human magic," Howl took up the discussion, "comes with its own rules, regulations and responsibilities. As Sarah is newly come into her magic, it is my duty to train her. As you are magical in yourself, you may discuss what is taught, so you may understand her nature and way. However, just as fae and demons have their own limits and creeds, so do we humans. One of them involves the opening and closing of doors between the plains."

"Sarah's mirror doors?" Jareth glanced at her and she nodded. He fixed Howl with a haughty stare. "Are they not like your own demon doorways? I can feel the one you have on this house!"

"Yes, and no," Howl continued. "Mine are anchored and bound and used to a purpose. Hers are open, and as I am sure you've noticed, tearing slowly into the human realm."

Jareth twitched at that and looked cagey.

"Don't make me as a purely human mage teach her the fae bindings of old," Howl threatened in a velvet growl. "We humans raised the thresholds and barriers against you fae for a reason. Just as you fae raised your barriers against us."

"I fought those wars, human," Jareth spat, instantly riled. "Do you think I'd dare tempt such a calamity again?"

"Yet you're allowing her doors to pull the essence of the reality of the human realm into your own. A little now, a little later, and then what, a little more then? Until it is bleeding through not only to your plain but others?"

"I know my limits and that of hers!"

"No, you're enjoying the taste of the power of this plain; stop it, before I am forced to stop you!"

"With what," Jareth sneered. "Your ladies iron tipped walking stick? Don't think I didn't notice its presence."

Howl glanced at Sophie in shock.

"My apologies, sire, that was an unthinking oversight of mine. Allow me?"

Jareth gave a nod and Howl gently took Sophie's walking stick and jogged off around the house with it. He returned, after depositing it in the castle.

"You seem remarkably keen to gain my favour," Jareth said suspiciously.

"We are in the position to do each other a great deal of good," Sophie told him primly. "Do not resent us for taking the slow path in our petition, as each point is pertinent to the next and with increasing importance."

Jareth blinked at her.

"The ill use of doorways cast our peoples into war for centuries, and you present that as your least concern? You have gained my attention. Speak on."

"Not so swiftly, young fae. We have yet to reach a conclusion with regards to the doors Sarah uses," Sophie reminded him and Jareth shifted and scowled, clearly hating to be pinned down.

"I," Jareth started, then looked to Sarah and his gloved hand clenched on his lap. "I will teach her the words to stabilise and restrict access to one door."

"And the boundaries for the goblins and other denizens of your kingdom?" Howl prompted.

"Sarah's claimed area in this neighbourhood. I shall show her how to walk the bounds."

"Within this sunrise and the next?"

"Within this sunrise and the next," Jareth concluded.

Sarah shivered as something not quite like magic rippled around them.

"What was that?"

Jareth gaped at her.

"You use spoken bindings all the time!" Jareth exclaimed. "What was that?" he scoffed, dismissing the words.

"Just so," Howl interrupted, "she knows the use of power, but not its nature, forms or expression. Have you any idea how dangerous that is?"

"I'm intimately aware of how dangerous she is," Jareth spat, "she destroyed half my castle and my Labyrinth! To this day there are parts I cannot access due to her doing!"

"And it did not occur to you she had no idea of what she had done," Sophie said softly.

"No idea? You humans are all tricks and lies! She did it, how could she not know what she did!"

"And there lies the next part of our petition," Sophie declared.

Jareth stared down his nose at her for a long moment.

"Speak on," he sneered.

"Sarah needs training. She needs to be taught the ways of her magic."

"And make her more powerful? Do you want her to split the plains asunder and break the ancient bounds of the Abyss?"

"Jareth, does that sound like something I would do?" Sarah snapped, growing more irritated by the moment.

"Oh, precious thing, you'd do it just to spite me. Consequences for the realms and plains be damned."

"You arrogant –"

"As entertaining as a private cat fight would be," Howl drawled in a very unimpressed tone, "you forget that as the senior human mage present, she falls under my jurisdiction. There are laws, oaths and treaties by which she has to abide. Ones that prevent what you have just spoken. If you would allow her the freedom to grow in strength and maturity, she would take the training well and become skilled. She would not train to lord it over you and punitively bind you and your people."

"Don't speak such blithe words to me, I know her nature, and it is capricious and fickle!"

"And yours isn't?" Sarah snapped.

"Children," Sophie intoned. "Just because one of you is learning to bake biscuits and the other isn't does not mean she's going to eat all the dough before you've had a bite."

Jareth worked his jaw but nothing came out. He turned to Howl in utter frustration.

"So, you train her in human magic. It's taking all I can muster to keep her contained. Will you watch her, night and day, looping endless hours to see to your own needs and that of your kingdom, so that she doesn't accidentally trigger the next plains war?"

"You're spying on me?"

"Of course I am!" Jareth roared at her. "You breathe light and life into the world and it turns about you like a glittering jewel caught in the sun. You are breathtaking and deadly. If any were to see you and snatch you away to use you to their own ends, the fallout would be felt across time and space!"

Sarah blinked, speechless.

"You're protecting me?" she breathed out.

"Protecting?" Jareth rasped, hoarsely. "That might be that somewhere in the middle of the absolute chaos that you are! You're like twenty drunk goblins armed with gunpowder and fire. I spend more time stamping out fire and sweeping gunpowder than I do steering you straight!"

"Uh," she self-consciously tucked her dark hair behind her ear. "Wouldn't you like it if I learned how to keep the gunpowder in the barrel and the fire in the hearth until it was needed to blow something up?"

Jareth leaned forward to make a point, his mouth opening, then he froze. He eyed Howl with sudden sharp keen gaze that cut through any veil to his very soul.

"She is by her very being magic, this training," he clasped his hand around his knee so hard the tendons could clearly be seen through his glove, "this training, what are its disciplines?"

"Morality, meditation, lore of the plains and their peoples, the craft and use of thought, word and deed, consequences and judgements."

"Human morality is fickle."

"And we understand fae morality to be as fickle, but you are here, at her side, and you may train her in the ways of your understanding. Then, when the two clash, you have grounds to discuss a compromise."

Jareth eyed her with a very insulting incredulous expression.

Sarah stuck her tongue out at him. To her shock and rising mortification, he grabbed it and breathed in her ear in a voice that would make her melt if she wasn't so angry.

"I could find plenty of good uses for that tongue."

She twisted out of his grasp and shoved him back.

"Get off me you lump!" She spat away the taste of leather.

Jareth reared back, hissing at his inhale to deliver his retort.

"Quite the royal behaviour, sire," Sophie said drily. "One would almost think you were a princeling barely a century on the throne."

Jareth froze. He then fluffed up his shoulders and glowered at all three of them.

"She is but a child," Sophie said softly, "not yet twenty summers. Yet you approach her as one who has centuries behind her."

Jareth blinked.

"What?" he breathed in horror. "She can't be! Look at her. She is fully grown!"

"How long do you think mortals live?" Sophie asked. "Seventy years if blessed, eighty if lucky, a little longer perhaps, then we're gone."

Jareth gaped at Sophie, then turned to Sarah as if she would melt to dust before his eyes. The utter devastation on his face was clear for all to see.

"Sorry," Sarah whispered.

Jareth swallowed hard, then hunched back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest and he made a brief pass of his fingers across his eyes. Sarah wasn't sure if she saw tears or not.

She shifted awkwardly while they gave him time to compose himself. Howl was staring out at the garden as if he was thinking of how to improve it. Sophie was watching Jareth with honest concern. Sarah began to reach out then snatched her hand back. Would her presence be rubbing salt or a balm in his wounds?

"I think some refreshments are in order," Sophie declared. "Come along, Sarah, you can help me with carrying the tray."


	11. Chapter 11

She helped Sophie squeeze lemons in Howl's kitchen.

"How could he not know how old I was? He's seen me grow up. He's seen Toby grow up!"

"He possibly never made the connection," Sophie said mildly as she took out a wooden box and checked the cookies inside. Sarah breathed in the homely scent of ginger as the old woman continued. "Age is a tricky thing to judge around magical beings," she made to say more but grit her teeth as if something held her words. She spun about with an exasperated huff, her eyes fixed on the fire as if pleading with Calcifer, but the fire demon crackled on his log and ignored her.

"He's going to be even clingier than he was!" Sarah fretted.

"You're welcome to room with us if he becomes intolerable, Calcifer wouldn't stand for his presence," Sophie said with a sigh.

"A fae inside the castle? I've been strengthening the wards since she mentioned him. Let him just try," Calcifer cackled evilly.

Sarah felt like crying then. The naked pain in his eyes would haunt her for the rest of her life. She took a sharp breath and concentrated on making the lemonade.

* * *

Sarah carried the tray with the stone pitcher of lemon juice and four glass tumblers Howl must have brought from Wales, as she had seen nothing like them in Kingsbury or Market Chipping. She had Sophie on her arm and the old woman shuffled along beside her, carrying the biscuits. When they returned Jareth and Howl were standing in the middle of the yard. Howl was drawing his hands through the air as he spoke, as if describing a landscaping layout. To her surprise, Jareth produced a crystal and tossed it, and the next instant the neglected yard became a glade of incredible beauty. Trees lined the fences, a pond with golden fish peeked out amid rushes; lawns covered much of the area, interrupted by flowerbeds that curved in and out.

Howl pointed at a few things and the image suddenly dissolved. After a little more explanation, Jareth tossed another crystal. Again they were in a glade, but this time it was the beginning of spring, the trees filled with blossoms and everything bright green and glowing with life.

Howl seemed to agree with this image as he walked slowly forward, inspecting it.

"Rather shapely from this view, aren't they?"

Sarah glanced down at Sophie startled that the old woman still noticed such things. Her eyes returned to Jareth, shapely didn't begin to describe what those trousers did for him.

"Go to him, dear," Sophie murmured. "He's showing off. A man always wants his efforts acknowledged, and most times it is a harmless means to soothe him."

"How do you know that?" Sarah clutched the tray as if it were a shield.

"I live around Howl, how do you think I get through a day without sweeping him out of the door with half the nonsense he brings home?"

She made Howl sound crazy. He was, she remembered the wooden crate of iron and cringed, but she had not seen him show off. Sophie, however, would know better than anyone. She helped the elderly woman into her chair and set the tray on Howl's stool then crossed the yard.

.

She came to stand beside Jareth, taking in the verdant beauty and the tantalising spring scents..

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

He started so hard he jumped almost a foot and the image dissolved with a pop. He staggered about and haughtily regained his composure.

"It was adequate," he sniffed, but she could see he was pleased.

Howl eagerly hurried over to help himself to the box of ginger cookies.

"I made the lemonade," Sarah told Jareth after she realised he was watching her.

"Then I shall have to sample it," he purred and followed just a pace behind her all the way.

They sat making polite conversation about the image of the garden Jareth had created.

"I thought we could make a sanctuary here," Howl explained. "It would be Sarah's, a place where she could relax in her magic and let it free."

"Or a place you can go and dig old roots when you need to work off some frustration," Sophie put in knowingly.

Sarah smiled at the old woman's keen understanding.

"It would look quite different if the garden were Sarah's," Jareth breathed, half lost in a private daydream. Sarah felt the tips of her ears go red. If that was not an innuendo, she was a goblin.

"As to be expected," Sophie said completely missing it, for which Sarah was very relieved. The smirk on Howl's face made her inch her foot over and press her heel on Jareth's toe. He snapped back into reality and she shot him a quelling stare. His grin turned into the most lascivious smirk.

Sophie, apparently oblivious, offered another round of ginger cookies. Jareth took two and before Sarah realised it, gently popped one between her lips. She would have accepted the gesture if he didn't teasingly tap her on the nose afterwards. She swatted his hand away with a sharp smack. He held up his arms in a mocking surrender. She pressed her heel onto his toe then froze as she felt his hand on her knee. There was a stall as they silently negotiated a ceasefire, then they pulled away from each other.

.

"So we are agreed that Sarah will be taught human magic," Sophie picked up the negotiations as she primly set aside the wooden biscuit box on the tray.

"Agreed," Jareth said, "with some reservations. I will monitor her progress. She goes off in fits of fancy and rage at times and until she understands the consequences I will bind time around her so it does not affect other plains."

"No," Howl said firmly. "That is one of the first things we teach. She must be shown the consequences of her actions."

"She can't seem to see it! It's as if she thinks her words do nothing!" Jareth growled in frustration.

"You said parts of your kingdom are damaged? Take her there once we have settled into her training and explain simply, as you would to the very youngest of your people, what she did."

"I suppose the endlessly corroding and reforming stone in the courtyard would not be too dangerous," Jareth mused. "Only, she's not allowed to do anything in my Kingdom until she can show me a time and matter reconstruction that is stable!"

"That will take a while, the theory is heavy and the practice tedious," Howl reminded him.

Jareth nodded.

"I'm right here, you know," Sarah drawled.

"Then listen to those who know better and hear what we say!" Jareth snapped.

"Why, you…"

"Sarah, don't whine like a child," Sophie scolded, "and Your Majesty, don't react in kind, are you not sovereign of your own self first and foremost?"

Jareth's jaw worked and he turned to Howl with a fit of frustration.

"She's worse than Sarah!"

Howl just leaned back on his stool and laughed long and hard.

"Well, I never!" Sophie declared in a huff and Jareth shot her a sardonic stare.

Sarah leaned over and snagged the box of ginger cookies and handed them around until Howl had collected himself once more. He didn't quite meet Sophie's eye, but grinned broadly.

.

"The next item to be discussed is the nature of the way your magic affects Sarah's own," Howl declared. "Rather like the peculiar melding of magic the fire demon and I have, your magic influences hers."

Jareth went oddly still at that, and Sarah swore she saw a wince at being caught flash across his features.

"Oh no you don't!" She was off her bench and facing him. "What have you done?"

"You know what I've done," he said calmly as if it were no matter of consequence.

"Jareth," she said warningly.

"What? You know what I have done! It's all in that book of yours that you read obsessively. Lingering over certain parts, I might add."

Sarah stoically ignored the treacherous blush creeping down her cheeks. She stood back and ran the words of the Labyrinth book through her mind.

"… and he had given her certain powers," Sarah breathed, carefully omitting the first part of that sentence. She could not say it aloud, not before an audience and definitely not before him.

She saw the challenge in his eyes, and could almost hear him thinking them at her. She pointedly ignored that.

"So," she retreated to her bench once more, it was safer than facing his bold challenge, "on top of my natural magic that crops up in our family line now and again," she nodded to Howl, "you granted me powers. What are they?"

"Family?" Jareth neatly derailed the discussion and examined Howl with interest.

"I will offer no names, as is custom, but we are second cousins."

An expression of dawning understanding washed over Jareth's face.

"My apologies, I did not realise you were acting on her behalf. I thought you a Wizard she dug from under a rock to torment me."

Sarah stared at Jareth indignantly.

"How does that change things?"

"I, as one of your blood," Howl explained, "have certain duties towards you with regards to him."

"Don't tell me this is all this male chauvinist crap about the guy having a say over the girl!" Sarah snapped.

"Not at all," Howl drew himself up coldly. "However, should he harm you, speak against you, or in any way upset you, I am within my rights to demand satisfaction. You are protected, Sarah, both by ancient custom and fae law."

"That's just the crap I was talking about! I can fight my own battles!"

"You would not that I held the umbrella while you jumped puddles?" Howl asked, mildly, but with an underlying amount of steel in his voice. "Do not answer me now, as this is something we will deal with in our lessons, but the protection of the kind I have over you is vast and powerful. He, as a fae, and as a King respects that. Remember what we said about cultural misunderstandings? Don't belittle his honour by your own thin grasp of the facts."

Sarah just gaped at Howl, then realised how vastly out of her depth she was.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't!" Howl snapped, and Sarah lifted her head just as Jareth froze in the moment of sneering. "It goes both ways. You have much to learn about humans, and if you wish to remain around Sarah as you clearly do, you are going to have to learn American ethics, philosophies and the mores of this community which raised her."

Jareth drew back, his natural arrogance replaced by an even colder imperious gaze of a sovereign monarch.

"Then it stands that she should learn of my people, our ethics, philosophies and mores of the High Fae, the goblins and the diverse peoples of the kingdom I rule."

"It would only be fair," Howl agreed.

"Then done," Jareth said.

"Done."

"Hey!" Sarah squeaked as she felt the magic of the agreement settle. "You're both doing it again, male chauvinist pigs, the both of you! This is my life! Did anyone ask if I wanted to learn all that?"

"Sarah," Sophie interrupted, "did you not wish a magical education?"

"Well yes, but not what sounds like government and the like!"

"Yet, you are being offered an education the like of which princes rarely gain, are you going to refuse it out of hand and in so blunt a manner as to sour the offer? They mean to help you, not bind you."

"It's that arrogant high handed way they both just did it! You saw them! Not one of them asked me!"

"Is that it?" Sophie murmured. "Though you did not understand the consequences of it all, you wished for your opinion to be heard?"

"Yes! Didn't we talk about this? My main complaint about his Royal Majesty is that he just steamrolls over everything I say and doesn't listen. It seems Howl is not far behind!"

"So it is not that you disapprove of the offer, but the manner in which it was done?"

"Yes!"

"Howl?" Jareth tried the name and grimaced, Howl simply smirked at him as he realised it was not his true name.

"How should they have done it?" Sophie prompted.

"I don't know? Hey, Sarah, do you actually want to learn all that? Why, Jareth, I haven't the faintest. Sounds like I might need it. Then done. There. Simple."

"So?" Sophie glanced up at Jareth.

"It's already agreed, why back track?"

"She's angry with you, and I am sure you do not enjoy that state of affairs," Sophie pointed out.

"Well now," Jareth leered at Sarah, then turned a cold stare at Sophie. "You understand I am a sovereign of my own nation, I am King, there is no one above me."

"Yet, you wish for her to walk at your side?"

Jareth was left with his mouth open. Sarah caught the sudden panic flicker through his expression as he haughtily drew himself up again.

"As King I cannot set a precedent of anyone questioning my spoken agreements."

"Yet as the fae Jareth, who seeks a friendship with the human Sarah, you can speak words to soften commands while they lose nothing of their potency, and perhaps in that manner, increase their effectiveness."

Jareth just blinked at her for several long moments.

"Until this moment I was pitying myself having to match wits with Sarah. Wizard, your plight is more dire than my own."

"And you'll not find me objecting," Howl smirked.

Sarah blinked, then exploded in fury.

"How did they make it about themselves, again!"

Sophie just caught her eye and slipped her hand into her pocket where she hid the notes they had made the past few days at the castle and Sarah felt all the wind go out of her sails. They were meandering, but they were following the script. They had talked Jareth into thinking it was his idea. Sarah groaned; she had so much to learn.


	12. Chapter 12

The breeze was warm, and brought with it the scent of spring. Sarah felt as if all the world were going about its regular day like a wave on a sea shore. It lapped around her life, wetting her feet, but never quite immersing her. She had left the ocean and discovered the land more vast than she had expected. It was also rougher and full of unexpected bumps and pitfalls.

"To return to original topic under discussion, Sarah's magic and how it melds with your own," Howl said as Sarah sat trying to control her temper. She knew that Howl was honestly trying to help, but it still felt as though Jareth were dragging her onward whether she wanted it or not.

"As she said, I granted her some of my power," Jareth explained.

"The doorways?" Howl guessed and the Goblin King nodded.

"The speaking is her gift. I gave her the doorways and the ability to call whoever she needed so that should the speaking get her into trouble as it invariably does anyone with that particular gift, she can enter my Kingdom for sanctuary."

Sarah rubbed her eyes tiredly, it was not even midday yet and she felt exhausted.

"You know," she said to the grass at her feet, "you could have just told me."

"And where, precious thing, would be the fun in that?" Jareth purred.

"It's my life and not some petty game!" She whipped her head up, exhaustion taking the edge off her fury.

"You played your life so wild and reckless that I thought it was!" Jareth retorted hotly.

"Wild and reckless? Have you seen my life? School, dull as ditchwater. Theatre, I'm lucky to get a speaking part. Home, do what the parents say. How thrilling."

"Yet you pour out fire and wonder into the words you write, the dreams you call into existence and the songs you sing!"

She blinked at him.

"You've been reading my writing?"

"He hardly needs to," Howl interrupted, "he can see the realms you call into existence."

"But, that's all in my head. It's not real!"

Jareth gave her the oddest look, then turned to Howl with a worried expression.

"Is it not taught among the humans of the shaping and singing of realities and dreams? I had thought it was. I remember it."

"Lost now, there are few enough with the gift of magic for it to be a concern for the general populace, and like you see me now, we find those who do and train them."

"But, but, she would walk the fields speaking and singing to the skies, calling the worlds into being around her! I've an entire collection of them on a shelf in my solar. They're each strong enough to sustain the Labyrinth for decades."

"You have to remember with the short lifespan we humans have, the creative and power output that would beggar a fae in days, we can sustain our whole lives."

"You burn yourselves out like a falling star," Jareth breathed.

"Yet we are glorious as we fall."

"It's not fair," he whispered.

"That!" Sarah leaped to her feet, making them jump. "Jareth, make me a crystal of that moment!"

He gaped at her in bewilderment.

"Sarah?"

"You saying those words!"

He drew himself up sharply.

"Does that entertain you that I have finally discovered something so heartbreaking that I have to speak the truth in such a way?"

Sarah blinked at him, his pain damping down what triumph she had felt. She reached out and curled her fingers through his. He squeezed hers.

"Sorry. I don't mean for you to be so broken up about us dying, but, we're used to it. We don't like it, but you've got to make the best of what you've got."

She sat down at the edge of her bench, right up against his chair. He rested their hands on his thigh while he addressed Howl.

"I'll teach her of the shaping and singing, the thin places of the world and the call and the hearing of names. Not all of these are extensions of my power, but they're within my dominion. She'll probably have to speak with you to discover the human reckoning of the same, there're things she simply can't see because she is not fae."

"Done," Howl agreed.

"Jareth," Sarah sharply poked his shoulder with her free hand.

He turned, still looking at her as if she were fragile glass.

"Ask me first."

He smiled slightly.

"My petulant Sarah, do be still, we are discussing the dull matters of your dull future, why would they be of interest to you?"

"Because it is mine!"

"What would you have me say? Sarah, you delicate ephemeral thing, would that you grant me permission to teach you to spin dreams into star fire, and spill tales across the skies, and to scatter light and hope to return to you on the four winds?"

She blinked a little dazed.

"Keep talking and I might be inclined to kiss you."

He leaned back to assess her.

"I shall hold you to that, precious thing."

.

"This brings us to the final part of this negotiation," Sophie put in smoothly. Sarah felt a fiery blush flame across her face. She had completely forgotten they were sitting there. Talk about front row seats. She stared fixedly down at Jareth's gloved hand clasped around her own.

"So we come to the heart of the matter, do we?" Jareth asked, his wariness returning.

"An eloquent way of putting it, Your Majesty," Sophie declared. "The discussion of the betrothal contract between yourself and Sarah."

Jareth just sat there, unblinking.

When he hadn't moved, Sarah leaned over and peered at him. She poked him in the shoulder. He rocked, but didn't break out of the stare that was fixed mid distance just behind Sophie's head.

"I think we broke him," she said.

She reached over and grasped his shoulder and shook him harder.

When he still did not respond, she knelt up on her bench and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"If it is too frightening, we can go on a few dates and call it quits if it doesn't work," she tried not to let how disappointed she felt come out in her voice.

He blinked and shook his head sharply.

"What was that?" He appeared to be remembering her words, then his eyes flashed with a fire that honestly scared her. Only it wasn't that mocking demand for her obedience, it was as if she were all he saw in the entire world and found her breathtaking.

"No, precious thing, I am more inclined towards Miss Sophie's suggestion. Am I to understand that you've discussed this and won't be scolding my ear for a perceived high handed approach?"

"We've discussed the idea of it, but we had no idea how your people did things, so we're both working from scratch here."

Sarah sat back on the bench, but he drew up their clasped hands, raised her fingers to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. She had to bite back a gasp as an electric tingle shot through her. He lowered their hands gracefully and spoke to her.

"They're fairly straight forward, I pay your father your bride price, he inspects the home you will dwell within and when he declares it adequate, we set a date for the four declarations, and then the thirteen days of wedding celebrations. The agreement on the inheritance of our children or should we be unfortunate, the entailment to designated heirs, is usually negotiated at this time."

Sarah was then quite glad that Howl had chewed her out the day before about foreign customs, or her reaction would not have been positive. Despite her private misgivings about his traditions, he was rapidly winning her over; she had never seen such an expression of stunned incredulous bliss on his face. Enjoy it while it lasted, she told herself, he would soon be back to the snarky, overbearing fae she knew and loved.

"What are the four declarations?" Sarah asked.

"It is a way of letting everyone know the King is to wed. Once a quarter, over the time of a year, festivals accompany the announcements in various strategic towns or cities throughout the Kingdom. People gather tribute and it is sent to the castle, in this way the entire country may participate."

"You tax people when you get married?"

"It a freely given gift, taxes are regulated. By this tradition people can gather what they can afford or think appropriate. It is also tradition to store what is granted for several years to tide various regions over poor harvests and devastating winters."

"Not a bad custom," Sarah said grudgingly. "Wait, have you been married before?"

He instantly looked troubled, and turned away.

"I won't be mad," she promised.

"No," he released her hand and stared fixedly at the ground by his shoes. "I'm not exactly the most eligible bachelor."

"That brings up a question I have been meaning to ask," Howl interrupted them. Sarah almost laughed at the way Jareth started, as if he had forgotten their presence.

"You know Sarah is human, and we know you are fae, but what is your nature?"

"Give me one of your names and I will tell you Wizard," Jareth said edgily.

"Howell, of the Welsh peoples of the British Isles," Howl replied in quite a heavy Welsh accent.

"Howell," Jareth rolled the name across his tongue, and Jareth smiled as the magic solidified around them. "Then, Howell, Welshman of the Isles, know I am King of Transitions."

Howl closed his eyes. Sarah and Sophie watched as the wizard seemed to gather what strength he had just to remain seated on his stool.

"The owl, I should have known," Howl breathed.

Sarah looked between the two. Jareth looked increasingly edgy, as if he would summon a crystal and storm off, or attack someone. Howl, simply seemed fixed in his place on his stool with his head bowed.

Sophie, however, was peering at Jareth with undisguised curiosity.

"What title and duty will you grant our Sarah when she stands at your side?"

Jareth seemed rather blindsided by the question.

"She shall be queen at my side, but her kingdom, as she knows, is as vast as my own, and I have no power over her."

At that Howl lifted his head and stared at Jareth with a strange fire in his eyes, as if Calcifer's flames burned there. Jareth blinked, then the most incredulous expression of joy dawned across his features. He sat there with a silly grin on his face, staring as sharply at Howl as Howl stared at him.

"Do you think they'll let us in on the joke?" Sarah asked Sophie as seconds morphed into minutes.

"I am such a fool," Jareth breathed suddenly, and still smiling, though with tears leaking out of his eyes, dropped his face into his hands.

Sarah reached over and scrubbed his hair like she would Toby's.

"Tell us something we didn't know."

"That makes you the fool's queen!" he declared with a laugh that could have been a sob.

Sarah found that his hair was much longer than Toby's. She fisted her hand in it.

"Care to rephrase that?"

He leaned over and rested his forehead against hers.

"You, precious thing, are everything I am not and all that I ever dreamed and forgot I desired."

Sarah relaxed her hand in his hair.

"That's two kisses for when we find a private room," she promised and pulled away, blushing hotly.


	13. Chapter 13

Jareth lounged in his chair with the silliest of smiles on his face. His realisation and Sarah's promise had so lightened his soul that he felt like singing; he twitched his hand missing his crop, and dancing. He gestured graciously to the three humans before him.

"Anyone want to ask for a boon? I find myself in an uncommonly good mood."

"You know mine," Howl declared.

"In exchange for the services you have rendered, and your part in these negotiations, I will do what I can."

"Thank you."

"Please can I not be in the room when you ask dad for my hand?" Sarah said dread suddenly pooling in the pit of her stomach.

"Is that it?" Jareth actually sounded disappointed.

Sarah blinked at him, then dug through her mind for something really meaningful.

"Have someone sweep your throne room once a year so it is tidy on my birthday."

Jareth grimaced.

"That'll be one of the more difficult ones."

"When everyone is asleep and the castle is quiet, we can slip in and dance," she promised.

"Done."

"When everything is settled and you are married, let us visit on occasion," Sophie said.

Jareth grimaced.

"Does that include the demon?"

"Calcifer is not so bad!" Sophie snapped.

"Calcifer?" Jareth's eyes lit up with such relish and Howl leaped backwards with a cry of terror, knocking over the stool. He staggered to stand fully upright and in his hands he grasped the living blue flame that was Calcifer. Both of them faced Jareth in utter horror.

"He has my name," Calcifer sputtered and almost died on the small black coal he burned around.

Sarah stood up and stepped between Jareth and her second cousin and his fire demon.

"Don't torment them, Jareth. You were granting boons earlier, grant that they may know peace and keep their own power, apart from your own." She held his challenging gaze and then folded her arms across her chest and tilted her chin up in stubborn warning. "You demons and fae and your power hunger," she complained.

Jareth rose with slow regal indolence then abruptly stepped up to her. He lightly pulled her to his side and examined Howl, or more specifically Calcifer.

He then spoke in a language Sarah had never heard, hissing and growling like an angry cat.

Calcifer flared bright blue and spat back at him in the same tongue.

Jareth said one word and Calcifer flared brighter and gave three snappy replies.

Jareth drawled the next question and Calcifer ducked low about the black coal in Howl's protectively cupped hands.

At that, Jareth canted his head and Sarah felt him stroke his fingers through her hair. It sent pleasurable tingles all down her back.

He said something with a negligent wave of his hand, then switched back to English.

"That concludes the audience for today. We must all retire and consider what has been said. Sarah and I will walk the bounds."

"We still have much to discuss," Sophie said with a smile. "When will it be convenient to speak again?"

"If you bring ginger cookies, any time can be negotiated," Jareth declared magnanimously. "And bring the demon, he isn't entirely awful."

"What? No! I'm not leaving my nice warm hearth for a good long time!" Calcifer crackled at him.

"Afraid?" Jareth drawled.

"Terrified, unashamedly so! Now release us, Lord of Nightmares, and we will be about our business."

"You may leave my presence, Howell of the Welsh and Calcifer of the Stars."

Howl shook himself slightly.

"Can you help Sophie back to the door?" Sarah nudged Jareth in the ribs. "Howl's got his hands full with Calcifer and I've got to bring in the chairs."

Jareth offered an arm to Sophie. Howl frowned as though he were about to protest but said nothing.

.

They rounded the corner of the house and Howl glanced back at Sarah gathering the chairs in a clever stack so she would only have to make one trip.

"You cannot tell her!" Jareth breathed in a broken voice.

Howl grimaced at the Goblin King. His gaze was rather disconcerting with his odd eyes. Not to mention the power that surged around him, at once sparks and lightning and then vast and depthless like the lonely night wind.

"I know," he said at once exhausted yet happy for this oddly fragile fae beside him. "It would be best you lay a geas over the idea to protect her until she comes into it herself."

"I cannot. Her powers and mine–" he trailed off and Howl nodded in sympathy.

"Are you worried that Sarah won't work out that she's technically not mortal?" Sophie asked.

"Hush woman!" Jareth growled. "The spell is still settling and will for years yet. I cannot tell her and cannot give her any reason to allow her to think otherwise! She has to come into it on her own."

"Oh," Sophie patted the arm that supported her. "Spells of the heart and mind are always particularly tricky."

Howl and Jareth suddenly found themselves sharing a commiserating glance. They shuddered at the pain in the others eye and looked away to pretend they had not seen it.

"All life is," Calcifer piped up, philosophically. "Also, Sarah is faster than Sophie; she'll be able to hear us soon."

They walked the rest of the trip in silence.

.

Jareth helped Sophie up the steps and stopped at the door.

"Are you not going to come in?"

"Sophie!" Howl almost cried.

"As kind as your invitation is, it is done with great ignorance and innocence. I would not wish to disturb Calcifer's wards more than I already have by calling his essence out of its cradle. Remember, like the fire demon, I am power, do not let Sarah's familiarity and my human form deceive you. Now go, Miss Sophie. I am sure Howl wishes to have a breakdown in peace."

Howl all but ran across the threshold and up the stairs. Sarah lugged the chairs inside as Howl fussed about Calcifer in the hearth. Once the fire demon was ensconced in a comfortable heap of wood, he collapsed onto the chair Sophie used to sit in before the fire. Sophie, however, remained outside with Jareth.

"Young fae, don't think yourself above a clip about the ear."

"Sophie! Get in here you busy old woman and leave him alone!" Howl yelped and there was the thump as a chair went over. He wasn't quick enough and Sophie had Jareth by the ear and pulled him down to her height.

"Don't think I did not see you inspect the contract that binds them. I'm working on breaking it. If you have any tips tell me. That is my boon."

Jareth rubbed his ear and straightened as Howl appeared at the door at a run. Sarah slipped out of the door and stood beside Jareth, unsure of what a scramble headed Howl would do to him.

"Look to the heart of the matter," Jareth told her cryptically, shot Howl a slightly mocking stare then turned, gathered Sarah around the shoulders and walked away.

"Sophie, have you any idea what you have done?" Howl croaked and drew her inside.

"Oh, I am well aware of everything. He's a young fae in love and quite understands my point."

The door closed on Howl's pained groan of "Sophie!"

.

They ambled down the street; Sarah rather self-consciously tucked her arm around Jareth's back. She'd not really touched him for any length of time before. Her usual response to him was to argue or smack him away. She wasn't entirely sure what to do with this new truce. On the up side he was wearing a scent that reminded her of sandalwood that made her want to bury her nose in it. Was it his soap or his fabric softener? If he laundered his sheets in it, he would have her in his bed sooner than he thought. She hastily squirreled that thought into the back of her head for later perusal.

He paused as they came to the crossroads and looked around as if he could see something in the air.

"You've been along here a few times, but these are your bounds, where are their limits?"

"Are you talking about what area I spend most of my time in, or what area just feels comfortable to me?"

"Comfortable, everyone has a territory and often it overlaps with many others, but some will go as far as say the stream, another's will go as far as the field with the tree, yet another's will have the field but not the stream. You'll know, it is comfortable."

"Wow, we've got a bit of walking to do today," she thought of the park, "no make that a lot," she remembered the school and theatre on the other side of the suburb, "ugh, we'll be going till sun down."

"Such a wide area, precious thing?"

"I'm not an owl to fly my territory in an hour!" She snapped at him.

Jareth just laughed.

"A territory is walked, and I do have time on my side."

"Yeah, figures you would find a sneaky way around it."

"Sneaky?"

"You're the Goblin King, please tell me that the goblins aren't just very young versions of your own capricious attitude."

He leaned over and hugged her tight against his side.

"Capricious am I?"

"And sneaky, and demanding and you like to win so much you change the rules to suit you, and don't forget arrogant, petulant and terribly vain." She tweaked his fringe between her fingers as his eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to protest. "Only, you forget that in your quest to win my heart you let me see yours. I can see through the glamour, Goblin King, don't think it will fool me again."

He shut his mouth and his jaw twitched as she could see him about to speak, but the next thought then the next chased away the words. Then, because he was so close and she had promised two kisses, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

She ducked out of his suddenly weakened hold and skipped along the street ahead of him.

"You're going to get hit by a car if you remain standing in the middle of two streets," she called back to him.

He was at her side in a shimmer of glitter.

"And don't teleport where humans can see you," she hissed, grabbed his arm and dragged him onto the sidewalk.

"Who says anyone noticed?"

"Oh believe me, they'll notice," Sarah grumbled, "ever heard of Murphy's Law?"

They bantered back and forth about various laws of nature (life isn't fair, don't expect it to be), laws of the land (use the crosswalk!) and things that blurred between custom and law (don't dance in the middle of a busy street).

Her feet ached by the time the returned to the edge of her block. Jareth however seemed as though he could happily dance until midnight, turn cartwheels then dance until dawn.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she promised.

"Is that my dismissal?" he asked, hurt but resigned.

"There is a branch outside my window I know you're going to lurk on, but I need a little me time. You know food, shower, go over my lines for theatre, sleep, so when we talk tomorrow you get happy Sarah not grumpy Sarah."

"I go flying when I need me time," he raised his face to the stars with a peculiar wistfulness.

Sarah raised her hand but did not quite dare to stroke the length of his exposed neck. She clenched her fist and channelled her frustration at her own timidity into her words.

"You hadn't been flying often enough before I ran the Labyrinth, you were very cranky then!"

He gaped at her then with a wry grimace, ducked his head as he muttered something.

"What was that?"

"I said 'you would be right about that.'"

"You see my dilemma?" Her frustration melted into desire as he peeked at her through the locks of hair that fell in his face. "And I believe I owe you the second of my promised kisses."

.

She walked back to her home as night fell, watching a barn owl do far too many swoops for Jareth not to be doing the avian equivalent of a victory dance.


	14. Chapter 14

Sarah was very glad it was summer break; her school schedule would never have accommodated Howl's teaching methods. She sat outside in the back garden of the property Howl now owned, two streets away from her father's house. A shadow fell across her and she smiled up at Jareth then patted the spot on the blanket beside her. He, instead, sat at her back and tucked his legs around her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Herb lore?"

"Yeah," Sarah said.

He hummed at that, then reached around her and gently separated out each, naming them and their various properties as he went. That the lesson included kisses and cuddles all the while only helped.

"How are lessons with the wizard?"

Sarah made an uncomplimentary sound at the back of her throat.

"Lessons? I spend more time running around the countryside in Wales than learning anything! No," she declared, "that's not true. I have the bus timetable rote, every odd back way through to wild fields memorised and ten different ways to wheedle my way out of Megan's nagging. She's exactly the shrew Calcifer said she was! So I am learning!"

Jareth just chuckled into her ear.

"The apprentice years are always the toughest."

"Really? What did your Master have you do?"

Jareth was silent. She turned to him to find an oddly blank expression on his face.

"Jareth?"

"We fae are very different to humans," he said eventually, "and I had to make my own way in the world. I lived by my wits my apprentice years, as a journeyman I joined a troupe of troubadours when they heard me sing, and for mastery I learned from those who would not teach."

Sarah considered his answer. They sat in silence for a long while as she carefully bundled various plants.

"If you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen," she said softly.

"Never and that will be too soon," Jareth grumbled against her neck.

"Then sift all the good you can gain from the bad, and turn it into beauty. That way it does not poison your heart."

"How do you know my heart is not as black as a demons?" he huffed.

"The glamour no longer holds," she purred and leaned back to kiss him on the cheek. He buried his face into her neck and shoulder and hugged her. She ignored the slight hitch of each breath and soothingly stroked her fingers through his hair.

* * *

Howl waited rather distractedly at the kitchen table at the end of the week, the same day she had to fly back from Britain to the States. She had to go, or the authorities would be upset she didn't have her passport stamped out of the country. He had a set of house plans open before him and a frown on his face.

"I've brought a jar of honey today," she set it on the table.

"That is kind of you dear, we can make honey cakes to sell at the market," Sophie scooped up the jar before Howl had the idea to use it in some spell or other.

Sarah still marvelled over the odd payment system for the days lesson: a box of eggs on one day, a bag of rice on another, yesterday's had been a recital of a portion of the play Pygmalion the theatre was rehearsing. Sophie had a list and Howl hadn't said anything to the contrary.

"Don't visit the house in the States for the next week," Howl informed her as he rolled up the plans.

Surprised, she nodded.

"And warn that fae that he'd best stay clear."

"Okay?"

Howl then handed her a paperback book of poems.

"Each day this week, as we won't be meeting in person, I want you to choose one poem, or stanza to use as inspiration. You are to write your own, and yes you can get that fae to help. I want to see how well your writing takes to magic. It'll give us a baseline to start from."

The flight back to the States had her listing, then heavily editing the list of poems she wanted to use. By the time she arrived back at her home, exhausted, she had selected five poems.

Curiosity got the better of her the next day and she walked down to the house, only to find it gone. Outside a huge truck carted a loaded a skip filled with the remains of the termite eaten house. Construction workers worked to clear the last of the timber, but she kept out of their way and climbed up onto the foundations. As she reached the site of the old doorway she shivered. She could feel the link, invisible now that there was no longer a door. She would return at the end of the week to see what Howl had planned for the place.

* * *

Wednesday, or Doomsday, as Sarah called it in her mind rolled around too soon. Karen, of all people, had declared that His Royal Majesty, Jareth the Goblin King would be joining them for dinner. Karen had even written out an invitation for her to give to him. It was all in neat calligraphy. Sarah hadn't even known her stepmother knew calligraphy. Jareth had returned a very elaborate acceptance card via one of his goblins, which meant the card was slightly grubby from having been inspected by all of his subjects in the house before it was handed on to Karen. The reaction from the family was predictable. Toby was excited, Karen was bossy with nerves, and her father slipped away to the den to avoid the fuss. The goblins realised by mid afternoon on Wednesday that the King would visit the house in person, and set about decorating. Sarah arrived home from visiting the store to buy the last minute things for Karen to find her stepmother threatening goblins with a shake of the kitchen broom.

"And see you have every last bit of paper in that box, or I'll catch you, roast you, and serve you to your king!"

About ten guilty goblins stood in a huddle in the middle of the living room. It was a disaster. Someone had torn up several copies of People magazine and used the papers to decorate the room. The goblins were quite creative, they had torn the paper as well as any five year old, and she could make out the creatures the folded shapes were meant to be. Sarah put down the bags in the kitchen then went through.

"I'll handle this, okay?"

"Just make sure it is tidy by the time he arrives!" Karen went back into the kitchen in a tizzy.

Sarah sat down on the floor by the cardboard box.

"It's her house, we're going to have to do things her way," she said to the now confused and unhappy goblins.

"We're decorating for Kingy!" Fritch explained indignantly. "He said it was important! So we put up decorations!"

"Important days have decorations!" Raggy chimed in.

"I know," Sarah smiled. "But if Karen wants an undecorated house, we can't argue."

"That's boring!"

"I agree," Sarah grimaced, "but that is how it is. Why don't you gather all these paper animals you made, and while the King is here, take them back to the castle and decorate his throne room?"

"The chickens will get them!" Elga shook her little head.

"Then put them in places the chickens don't go."

The goblins conferred in a tight knot, then agreed. Sarah left them gathering their artwork with enthusiasm. The box was gone and the living room spotless by the time she went upstairs to change.

.

Sarah checked the trim summer dress she wore, and critically inspected her light brush of makeup in the hall mirror. Toby sat on the stairs, and had she not been distractedly nervous would have noticed that there was not a single goblin in sight.

"It's still five minutes to seven," Toby checked his wristwatch. "You're going to walk a hole in the carpet."

Sarah made the trek back to the door and peeked out into the street. No Goblin King anywhere. She went back to pacing.

"Why not just say the words?" Toby asked. "I wish the Goblin King were here, right now?"

Sarah turned to him in horror.

"Tobias Williams!"

"I had hoped for your sister's dulcet tones, not your insouciant drawl."

Toby sprang off the stairs and spun about to gape up at him. Jareth clad in an elegant black suit, with enough ruffles on his white shirt to please a regency gentleman, stood on the step above the one Toby had fled. Toby took a step back and gulped. He then tore off towards the dining room.

"Mom!" he yelled at the top of his voice, "Mom! He's here!"

Jareth slowly descended the stair.

"With the herald's announcement, I am arrived, my lady."

Sarah allowed him to take her hand and kiss the air above it before she came out of her daze.

"I keep forgetting–" her shyness caught up with her mouth and words failed.

"Forgetting what, precious thing," he murmured as he tucked her hand onto his arm.

Sarah blushed bright red. He stroked his gloved fingers along her wrist and arm with an encouraging tilt of his head.

"That you always dress so, so…" words failed her as 'hot' and 'sexy' were not suitable clothing descriptors but her mind couldn't find anything else.

"You find my attire renders you speechless," he purred, clearly pleased, "or, mayhap, it the form within the attire."

"Jareth!" She nudged him as he leered at her.

He simply chuckled and handed her a single red rose, its bud still tightly closed. Somehow, the tiny thorns on the stem formed a perfect spiral all the way down.

"Thank you," she managed with a smile, sure the thorns were his jibe at her contrary nature.

.

It was just then that her father emerged from the den, pulling on his blazer as he walked. He was about to head to the dining room when he noticed them and froze. Sarah would never forget the expression of astounded yet almost grudging respect that covered his face. He had never quite approved of her theatre friends with their wild choice of clothing, yet Jareth, in his old-fashioned attire, had such gravitas as to override his dislike.

Robert Williams shook himself, tugged his blazer straight and strode up with the formality and brisk efficiency Sarah recognised as his business face.

"Good evening, and welcome to our home, Your Majesty." He said and stuck out a hand with firm determination.

Jareth grasped it and by the way they both winced, Sarah was sure that they had initiated a subtle pissing contest.

"Dad, this is Jareth, the Goblin King, Jareth, my father, Robert Williams."

"Delighted," Jareth said with just that edge to his voice and Sarah could just see how this evening would go. They released hands and assessed the other like two tomcats prowling at the brink of their territory.

It was then that Karen walked gracefully out, heels clicking on the wood floor. There was a slight clatter as she stumbled on seeing them.

"Oh my," she breathed and the look of breathless awe on her face.

Sarah glanced up and saw the predatory cunning flash through his eyes and promptly elbowed Jareth in the ribs.

"Cut the glamour!" she hissed.

He pouted at her for having denied him the fun and with an over dramatic sigh, ran his fingers through the air in the front of his being, his wrist twisting a crystal out of thin air.

Karen straightened and blinked somewhat dazedly and Robert shook his head, as if trying to remember what he had just seen. Then, instead of the crystal, Jareth had a bottle of wine which he held out to Karen as she joined her husband in the hall.

"For the hostess," he presented her with the bottle as he bowed and Sarah could see something click in her father's mind. He shot her a frown then his eyes widened. It was if he realised in that moment how subtly dangerous Jareth truly was. Sarah grimaced her confirmation.

"Come on!" Toby hung around the edge of the dining room door, "what's taking you all so long?"

"Customary etiquette and niceties, young Toby," Jareth told him as Karen took the wine and murmured pleased things about the vintage. "As no one has so schooled you, come forward and stand beside your father to be introduced."

"I already know who you are!" Toby whined, but slunk up to stand beside his father. "You don't usually dress so frilly; you must really want to impress Sarah this time."

"Toby!" his father said in a quelling hiss.

"Indeed, we have met," Jareth declaimed. "Yet, I think, never have had the fortune of a formal introduction."

Toby rolled his eyes.

"Hi, I'm Toby Williams. Sarah is _my_ sister. Don't dare hurt her or I'll find that iron poker all your goblins are scared of and hit you with it."

Jareth blinked down at him.

"Tobias Williams," Karen gasped. "My apologies, Your Majesty. Toby, apologise at once."

Toby stubbornly stared up at Jareth.

"I'm sorry for sounding rude."

Jareth chuckled darkly at that.

"You've taught your brother well."

"I didn't teach him that," Sarah flinched at Karen's filthy glare and squeezed Jareth's arm. "I think he learned it from you!"

Toby smirked at Jareth, but still held that stubborn warning in his young eyes.

"You and I, Toby, shall have words presently," Jareth told Toby.

"You're just mad you can't bog me like you bog the goblins."

Jareth moved as if to step forward and Sarah grabbed his arm and then reached out and snatched Toby by the shoulder and dragged the both of them to the living room.

"I swear if you two don't behave I will kick you both out, eat all the roast and icecream with the help of the goblins and then not speak to either of you for a week!"

Toby gaped at her in horror and Jareth had at least the grace to look slightly ashamed of himself.

"Deal?" She folded her arms and glared at them.

"Deal," Toby said reluctantly.

"Deal," Jareth breathed out albeit petulantly.

"And can we please not spend the evening having a pissing contest?" she murmured to Jareth.

"What a crude idea for a competition, precious thing," Jareth breathed scandalised.

"I'd believe you if I hadn't seen a row of eight drunken goblins do it once!" she said drily. "I meant the figurative sense."

Jareth blinked, his expression told her there were going to be eight freshly bogged goblins before he retired for the night.

"Jareth," she murmured warningly.

"I shall be ever the courteous and genteel guest, precious thing," he relented, "what topics does your father prefer, and what diverts your stepmother?"

"Football, business, dad's a manager for an international trading company; Karen works as his secretary and attends charity and social functions. Toby likes goblins; he's been dying to ask you to build a diamond in the Labyrinth so they can play baseball. They smashed the window last week, pitching in the hall."

Jareth gave a nod, and she was sure he did something with magic. He drew himself up and that gravitas and sovereignty he held as a king just solidified around him, only this time with a gracious manner towards approaching petitioners.


	15. Chapter 15

That dinner, Sarah would always remember with incredulous wonder, was magnificent. The food was excellent; every one of the dishes was seasoned to perfection and delicious. The conversation flowed smoothly, her father delighted at Jareth's knowledge of the business world, and Karen impressed at his commentary of various charity events in the past few months and what causes were suitable. Toby, he kept interested, by throwing in titbits about his kingdom and the goblins. Sarah was surprised to learn that the past two years had been abundant harvests and the preparation for the coming winter, which looked to be an uncommonly harsh one. How various trade negotiations worked with other kingdoms, and how he disliked the High King's trade ambassadors and their overbearing and frankly insidious manner in trying to trap him into disastrous contracts. Yet he kept it light and interesting, and even had her laughing at several anecdotes he could only know if he had hung around watching daytime television. They retired to the living room for coffee and Jareth and her father sat discussing the latest football games.

Karen gestured to Sarah and Toby to help her and she sent Toby out with the tray of biscuits and cakes.

"That young man of yours," she said and leaned against the counter as she waited for the coffee machine to do its magic, "is what the royal families of the world dreamed when they trained their princes."

"It's hard not to like him when he's like this," Sarah smiled.

"I imagine his temper when thwarted is legendary?" Karen murmured.

"More petty and nasty, but he gets the point across," Sarah said dryly.

"Is he violent?"

"He's, what? Karen, what kind of question is that?"

"One I have been pondering if he seems as attached to you as you seem to be him. Men of such passion are sometimes twisted in their outlet of their frustration."

Sarah snorted dismissively at that.

"We had possibly the biggest fight any two people could get into when I was fifteen. He never once touched me. I gave as good as I got in the yelling and snarky remark department and we have recently settled on a truce. Now we tend towards more subtle digs, but we have an understanding. I promise you, he would die before he harmed a single hair on my head."

"And you?" Karen whispered. "Will you tire of him after a few years and another man catches your eye like your mother?"

Sarah felt the world around her turn to rage and ice.

"That was below the belt," she coldly over enunciated each word. "The answer is never." She all but snarled at her stepmother, unaware of the rising magic crackling around her, "If you ever, ever compare me to my mother in such a fashion again, I will grant the goblins free range on your bedroom so that you'll never find a matching shoe or clean outfit again."

"Sarah," Jareth comfortingly put his arm around her shoulders and she gave a gasp as she felt him draw the magic in the air. "Solidify its form," he ordered as he hovered the glowing orb of magic before her.

She raised her hands and cupped them over his.

"All rage and sorrow and fury and bile, be trapped and bound in a crystal."

An orb exactly like the ones he formed so easily dropped into his hand. It vanished as he tucked it away with a twist of his wrist.

He then turned to Karen, her face drawn and pale at the wildness of the magic.

"I will not ask what the altercation was tonight, but this shall be reviewed later. Sarah is too young in her magic to deal with it well, and the Wizard has asked that I allow her the consequences of her actions so she might learn discipline and control. We shall return to the front parlour. I shall send Toby to assist you."

Sarah let Jareth guide her back to the couch and sat beside him, her mind sparking fury and sorrow and her hands shook. She was hardly aware of the conversation, only its tone. Jareth kept it light, entertaining, and skilfully away from her. She was not sure how long she had been out of it, and if that disassociation had been his doing, but there was a sensation like a soap bubble popping and the world about her became ordinary and clear once more. She heard the end of her father's favourite drunken pitcher joke and smiled.

The rest of the evening passed smoothly, though she carefully avoided Karen. It was nearly ten by the time they all gathered in the hall to say their farewells. Karen hung back with a rather plastic smile on her face as Robert heartily showed Jareth the door. Sarah slipped out to the sidewalk in front of the house with him and he gathered her in a hug.

"We need to talk, tonight, call me through the mirror in an hour."

She gave him a tight squeeze, burying her face in the ruffles of his shirt, then released him. He kissed her hand then walked off; glancing back every so often until he turned into the next street and the neighbour's trees hid him from view.

.

Sarah returned inside and found Karen shooing a drooping Toby up to bed. He father was waiting just inside as she closed the door.

"So, now you've met the Goblin King." Sarah breathed out a long sigh of relief; no one had been bogged, which had been her chief worry.

"He's a charming fellow, and his magic affects the mind and senses like Howell's affects the physical world," Robert remarked a touch cautiously.

"Oh, he can do anything he wishes with his magic," Sarah corrected him. "I think he was as nervous as you were all tonight, so he just subtly twisted it all in his favour."

"Yes," Robert frowned, recollecting his first impression and comparing it to his last. "He is well educated, knowledgeable and exceedingly skilled with dealing with people. I'd have him as my lead salesman if he'd deign to take the job, and we'd both benefit."

"And when you consider that he is doing that in a foreign culture, in what is probably his tenth language and amongst an alien people…" Sarah trailed off with a slightly pleased smirk.

Robert's face twisted with consternation.

"We spoke of his kingdom, but all he ever did was to relate it to what we understood," he whispered with widening eyes. "Damn, I'd have him running the company!"

"He's a King, dad," Sarah reminded him, "he's kind of on the top of upper management."

Robert nodded wryly at that.

* * *

She shut her bedroom door after she returned from her shower and changed into practical jeans and a shirt with comfortable sneakers. She waited until her father shut off the landing lights then crept across to the mirror and called.

"Jareth, I need you."

She blinked as she recognised where he stood. The now mowed yard behind Howl's demolished house. She stepped through as he beckoned and he smiled.

"Close the doorway behind you, it is this neglected practice the Wizard dislikes."

She turned to it, feeling the same odd tingle in the air as Calcifer's door.

"How?"

"Words, the same way you opened it," he prompted.

She turned around and concentrated, ordering the words in her mind before she spoke them. To her shock, the sensation vanished. Sarah waved her fingers through the air uncertainly.

"You've learned to focus your thoughts! Keep practising that!"

She spun around; she hadn't seen Howl there beside Jareth. The Goblin King was still dressed to the nines, and Howl wore a simple belted tunic over his breeches and boots.

Jareth then twisted his hand and held a crystal out for Howl to see.

"She lost control of her magic this evening, and I condensed it and guided her to seal it. Ignoring a hurt is never the solution. I don't know the human way of taming wild magic, and dissipating it, however it would be best to go over that before we retire."

Howl took the bauble in his fingers and examined it with steadily rising eyebrows.

"This is not wild magic, it's stored grief. Be glad Old Blueface is not here, or he'd do just about anything to trick you into giving it to him to eat. It'd give him the strength to live for decades."

"As long as the grief has been held," Jareth reasoned and plucked the orb from his hand.

Sarah clenched her fists nervously, not liking the way this was going.

"Tell me what happened, every word as true as you can recall," Howl prompted.

No. Not at all. She shifted her feet on the short grass, drinking in the smell of late summer. After a few breathing exercises to calm herself, she swallowed hard. Decidedly not looking at Jareth, Sarah did as Howl asked.

Her voice was almost lost in the quiet of the summer night. The weather was completely wrong for the torrential emotions within her; it should be a downpour.

"Your mother left your father when you were young, and you also resent your stepmother for her inadvertent replacement of her in your father's life," Howl summarised.

"Inadvertent! My mother might have gone off with Jeremy, but Karen saw an opportunity and took it, scheming cow."

"Do you not wish for your father's happiness?"

Sarah opened her mouth to retort then shut it. That was a very unfair question. She clenched her fists. She knew better that to voice that opinion around Jareth.

"It's not that I don't, its, its just mom and dad had a good thing. Us. We were happy. Then everything broke and, mom and Jeremy are happy and dad and Karen are happy, but me? Why do I have to live with all the negative consequences? Why can't they love me?"

She hadn't realised she was crying until Jareth brushed her tears away with his thumbs. He collected her in a hug. She turned her head to cry into the sleeve of her shirt, not wanting to get the mess on his very fancy clothes. She managed to gather herself quickly, the sheer embarrassment of having Howl as an audience short-circuited her crying jag. She was glad it was dark. Crying made her eyes puffy and her nose red. She ducked out of Jareth's arms, but squeezed his hand in thanks as she stepped back, mopping the moisture from her eyes.

"I am the last to offer family advice," Howl said quietly. "My uncle all but raised me after my father passed away and my mother couldn't handle my wild ways or my magic. I will be the first to say I resented them all, so in this I understand. Yet, it is clear you are closer than I ever was to my own family, even your stepmother whom you dislike."

Sarah cast a sheepish glance at Jareth then. He just smirked broadly at her.

"That's only because of him," she felt her cheeks burn and lifted a finger to point at the smug fae.

"The wish away, yes, to learn the value of what you have and the trial to face who you are as a person. A cutthroat way to learn, but effective if successful," Howl mused.

"See, even Howl thinks it a bit much," Sarah sniffed at Jareth.

"Oh no, I think it was exactly what you needed," Howl contradicted her. "Yet, while the trial taught you what it was you had, it didn't deal with what you had lost."

Sarah hugged her arms about herself, she did not want to deal with that.


	16. Chapter 16

Sarah gazed at the crystal Jareth held, her crystal of trapped grief. She knew Howl required an answer, but this was personal, damn it, why did her personal emotions have to become a lesson in magic?

"What is there to do about that?" she asked in resignation. "I'm sad. I'm angry. I love my mother and want to hate her for leaving but can't. I should hate Jeremy, but he makes my mother so happy that I can't! I hate Karen because my father and I were a team and she broke us apart. I was left alone. Everyone had someone, but me."

"What of Merlin?" Jareth asked his eyes distant as if he were reviewing her family.

Sarah gasped as her breath hitched, even years later she bitterly missed him.

"He's a dog and he died!"

"Ah," Howl declared with too much understanding for her comfort. "You're afraid of being left behind. This grief is the panic and terror that you'd be alone, or worse, that you'd do just that to another."

"I will!" Sarah gasped and grabbed Jareth's arm and shook him, before he neatly twisted out of her grasp. "He's going to live for centuries! I've got what, eighty years, I can't help it. Then what, he's going to be stuck like I was? It's not fair!"

She was crying again and Howl just awkwardly fidgeted with the ring on his finger.

"I do believe," Jareth cut in snidely, "that we've had this conversation before."

Sarah sniffed and dashed her hand across her face.

"Don't you give me that now! Not when I've told you every painful truth! Don't you dare sweep it aside as if it is nothing!"

"I hardly said that, precious thing," he leaned in and growled at her. "I do still wonder what your basis for comparison is."

"You! You fuzzy haired fairy king! You're immortal! I'm mortal! How is that fair?"

"It isn't," he said.

"Hah!"

"That is," he continued over her, "because it is not done to compare apples to oranges."

"But I'll die," she sniffed, "and where will that leave you?"

"With eighty years of the most wondrous time of my life."

Sarah stared up at him, her eyes filling with tears again.

"You're not allowed to be so nice. You're not allowed to just dismiss it!"

"And just what am I allowed? To ignore your pain? To ignore your light and joy? I count myself wealthier beyond the plains and all within for having spent just an hour in your presence. Can you imagine what eighty years can grant?"

"Sixty, I'm twenty soon," she hiccuped.

"Sixty," Jareth snarled.

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and sniffed.

She didn't see the wretched conflicted expression that Jareth struggled to hide. Howl handed her a handkerchief. She used it briefly then tucked it into her pocket when he gestured for her to keep it.

She stood not wanting to look at Jareth, yet at the same time wanted to hug him senseless. She shuffled over and leaned against him. He just leaned into her and curled over to rest his head on hers. He brought up the crystal and held it out to her.

"You need to deal with this."

She could feel his jaw move against her hair.

She took the crystal. It felt just like any other crystal of his that she had ever held, smooth, cool like glass to the touch. He planted a kiss on the top of her head and stepped back.

She grasped it with both hands and after a moment shook it. She tried looking in it, but there was no dream inside it to see. She turned to Jareth questioningly.

"What do I do with it?"

"You trapped it, you will be the one to release it," he explained.

She smiled as she realised she just had to speak the words.

"Release!" She called as she bounced the globe up above her palm.

A blast of crackling fury and light crashed into her and flung her almost ten feet across the lawn. Jareth, who had been closer was picked up and tumbled across the remains of the house foundations. Howl slammed into the neighbour's fence with a hefty thump, knocking that section of slats flat. Sarah scrambled dizzily to her feet. Her back and elbows were bruised where she landed and she was mostly winded. She coughed, half crying half choking for air as she staggered across to Jareth.

Car alarms went off and the neighbours put on all the lights and a man dressed in what must have been his wife's pink dressing gown stumbled outside with a shotgun.

He saw Howl struggling to get out of his fence, all flickering glowing blue light.

"What the hell are you neighbourhood kids at!" he brawled at them as Sarah stumbled past the orb had once been. It now fizzed brilliant white like a flare in the middle of the yard.

"I'm calling the police!" he roared. "That is private property you're trespassing on!"

"That would be mine!" Howl croaked and finally got free of the fence.

"Jareth?" Sarah scrambled up onto the foundation and pulled him up into a sitting position. He was awkwardly heavy, but helped when he realised what she wanted. He gave her a fuzzy cross-eyed stare. "Ugh, you're concussed. Come on, get up! We can't be here when the cops arrive!"

She dragged him to his feet and almost fell over as he leaned too heavily against her. Howl yelled something in Welsh, cussed in the same language then staggered across to the flaming globe.

"Wards have fallen?" he said muzzily then saw the flaming orb and almost ran directly off the foundations. Sarah yanked them across to the steps just in time and it was all she could do to keep him upright in his flight. Jareth reached the flaring orb just before Howl. He stamped on it with his foot, killing the light, grabbed Howl by the scruff of his neck and all around them reality fell away like rain washing a chalk drawing from a wall.

.

They all crashed down into pitch darkness onto a cold sandy floor.

Howl pushed them away, cussing in Welsh. Jareth fell to his knees and groaned in a language she had never heard, but it made eerie slips of purple light like that of an aurora flicker around him for a moment then vanish.

"Sarah, where is it?" Howl barked at her. He was somewhere in front of her in the pitch darkness. Jareth was somewhere to her right.

"What?" She called back.

"Your orb of pent up magic! What were you thinking? Oh, don't answer that, you clearly weren't!"

"Well excuse me for having rubbish teachers!" she spat back, furious.

"Where is it!" Howl snapped.

"I don't know! Jareth stood on it!"

"Leave it!" Jareth hissed hoarsely as if in pain.

She didn't blame him with the concussion he had.

"It's going to explode on us if we don't diffuse it!" Howl growled at him.

"Not," Jareth said blearily. "Is Oubliette."

"What's an Oubliette?" Howl asked his voice going sharp with panic.

"A place to forget about a person. There are hundreds in the Labyrinth," Sarah said, realising what Jareth had done.

"The Labyrinth!" Howl yelped. "We're in the Labyrinth! You idiot why did you bring us here! No wonder my magic is all haywire." There was a scuff of sand as Howl scrambled about in the darkness. "You! Goblin King! Quit with the magic suppression!"

"Tha's wha' 'e Oubliette's for!" Jareth slurred. "Drains magic to Lab'rinth. Make it 'er own."

"Hoggle said they were for –"

"And Hogeth knows anything 'bout magicaa, magial," Jareth lapsed into another language in frustration.

"Be silent!" Howl barked and to her surprised struck a light, he held up a burning match and they found that they were in a circular stone room with a pale sandy floor. There were the remains of a ladder some fifteen feet above their heads. Various crates were lying where they had fallen from the opening in the ceiling some twenty feet above them. They could see stars in the night sky and felt the cool summer air drift in.

Sarah saw blood dripping down her sleeve and grimaced at the nasty graze on her elbow. She hissed as it suddenly doubled its burning pain now that she'd seen it. Howl's clothes were singed and torn and he had a fairly nasty head wound if the blood matting his hair was anything to go by. It was Jareth that concerned them the most. He lay curled on his side, twitching slightly, his eyes glassy and unfocused and strange pale blood soaking his shirt.

"Jareth!" Sarah whispered and immediately came to his side.

"Don't touch him!" Howl snapped, and hastily leaned close.

"Goblin King can you hear me?" Howl asked in a voice that demanded a response.

Jareth turned to him.

"'emon mage."

"Yes, that's me," Howl sounded relieved. "How do we get out of here? Where is a safe place for you while injured?"

"'as'le."

"Castle, beyond the goblin city," Sarah explained. "You have to run the Labyrinth to get there though!"

"Anywhere nearer?" Howl panicked. "How far is this omelette thing we're in to the castle?"

"'oo, 'iles."

"Two miles? That's going to take forever with us having to lug you! Any friends nearby?" Howl asked.

"Sa'a."

"Yes, Sarah. Anyone else?"

There was silence as Jareth's eyes rolled back in his head.

Howl let out several vile cusses in Welsh then took a sharp shuddering breath to focus. The flame on the match stick burned steadily lower.

"Sarah, go and grab a splinter of wood for this flame!" he ordered and she scrambled dizzily to her feet. She couldn't find a splinter, so kicked the crate to pieces and took a jagged edge of wood. Howl carefully lit the edge of the long piece and coaxed it a moment with what little magic he could command. He leaned away from them and jammed it into the sand of the floor.

He then sank back where he sat, shaking. Abruptly, he turned and was sick on the floor behind him. Sarah almost lost her own supper right there. She clamped a hand over her mouth and nose and closed her eyes.

Howl retched a few times then groaned. There was a scuff of sand.

"I've buried it; you can open your eyes. Sorry," he grumbled, "must have hit my head harder than I thought."

Sarah swallowed hard. Howl had a sheen of sweat over his pale face which she didn't like. Not to mention Jareth's state, she had never thought fae could be so affected by magic. She hated how ill he looked.

They were trapped, but Oubliettes usually had hidden doors, she had but to find one.


	17. Chapter 17

She walked around the Oubliette, trailing her hand on the walls, but found nothing that could even remotely be called a door. She tried stomping the sand, but there was no hollow sound to indicate a hidden trap door. In desperation she tried to grip the walls, but it was built like the inside of a witches hat, with no hope of climbing.

"Hello!" she yelled. "Anyone out there?"

She almost cried in relief as two goblins popped their head over.

"There's a runner! See, told you I heard something."

"Hey, I'm Sarah, can you go get Sir Didymus or Hoggle for me? In fact get both!"

"We's not helping a runner!"

"I'm not a runner you idiots!" Sarah snapped. "Your king is here, he's hurt. Get someone to help us out!"

The goblins leaned over and yelped, then vanished.

"Well that helped," Howl grunted sarcastically.

"Hey!" Sarah called. "Hey, is anyone out there?"

A different goblin put his head over.

"Ooh, it's look just like the Kingy, he's gonna be mad when he finds out you pretended to be him! Bogged that old elf what did it last time he did!"

"What's your name!" Sarah snapped.

"Aggsy."

"Aggsy, do you know who I am?"

"You look like the Lady."

"I am the Lady."

"Nah, you're in the oubliette, only runners in the oubliette. You're got clever disguise."

"Aggsy, I swear, if you don't help us, when the King is better, I will ask him to bog you as a special favour to me."

"Not if you don't get out of the oubliette," he pointed out with unerring accuracy then wandered off.

"Hey! Come back."

"What you want now?"

"Just send down some water and bandages, please!" she begged.

"What, are you hurt?"

"Badly! Now get them!"

"What can you trade?"

"I've a shiny diamond stud earring," Sarah pointed to her ear. "Real gold and real diamond. For that, you get us bandages, water and a rope."

"No plastic?"

"Is he barmy?" Howl asked, incredulous.

"Yes!" Sarah yelped as the goblin moved away. "Yes I have plastic. My watch. It tells the time Aboveground."

The goblin leaned right over the edge to see it.

"It's a clock. Like Kingy has." The goblin peered sharply at Jareth sprawled on the ground, now shivering.

"You didn't steal from Kingy did you?"

"No! I didn't! I bought it at Walmart! Aboveground!"

"I've not heard of Walmart."

"What will you ask of us?" Howl spoke up with such a waspish drawl he almost sounded like Jareth.

The goblin eyed the watch with undisguised greed.

"Is good. I've got rope here. I go for bandages and water now!"

He dropped a coil of rope into the oubliette and then darted away.

Sarah picked it up, tied a piece of splintered crate to the end of it, then with a heft, aimed for the broken ladder. It bounced off and fell. She tried again, then again, and kept going. She worked out how to loose enough rope for it to fly free, and had to kick the piece of wood in half when she did eventually hit the gap in the ladder, only for it to bounce off because it was too big.

.

The goblin returned with bandages and water, and Sir Didymus.

"Fair Lady!" He gave a bark of surprise. "Blood! Blood on your shirt, thou art hurt!"

"Sir Didymus, catch!" She called and threw the wood about the rope with all her might. He snatched it in his paws and peered at her.

"Now that I have caught this, what is your purpose?"

"Tie it to the ladder and see that it is firm enough to carry me."

"Why climb a rope when there is a ladder?"

"It's broken."

"No, it's not."

"It is."

"Is not."

"Sir Didymus?" Howl interrupted. "Is the ladder outside the omliette?"

"Oubliette," he corrected carefully. "Why yes, how else did we come to be standing here?"

"Sir Didymus, is the ladder long enough to reach the ground within?"

"Of course, it reaches the ground without."

"Sir Didymus," Howl said with forced calm, "sit on the edge of the oubliette, pull up the ladder and slide it down inside."

"Then how shall we get down the outside?"

"We'll do the same in reverse!" Howl almost whined in exasperation.

"Hey, Didymus!" Hoggle's familiar voice called from outside. "What they want us here for?"

"It's the Lady Sarah!" he called.

"What's she doing in an oubliette, only runners end up there?"

"I cannot say; she has not yet furnished me with such particulars."

"We're hurt! Your king is hurt! Damnation, cease your inane gabble and get us out of here!" Howl yelled.

At that there was a cuss and a thump and soon a dwarf stuck his head over the edge.

"It's His Majesty!" Hoggle moaned in dread.

There was a sudden scrabbling and the rim of the oubliette filled with goblin faces.

"Nah, they're just tricking."

"You idiots!" Hoggle roared at them. "That is Lady Sarah. That is that Wizard that is teaching her the human magic. And that, lying like a man fallen in battle, is King Jareth!"

There were various murmurs of disbelief and horror.

"Get the ladder down here," Howl ordered sharply.

With Hoggle correcting much of Sir Dydimus's prevaricating, the ladder slid down, followed abruptly by several goblins and Hoggle.

He crept slowly over with a strange kind of haunted terror on his face. He stopped well out of Jareth's reach.

"What did you do to him?" he asked Sarah.

"I didn't do anything!" She retorted, scandalised. "A magical explosion knocked us all over and he must have landed badly."

"You're the only one with the power to harm him so badly," Hoggle said hoarsely.

"What?" Sarah choked.

"We never said, but this place was a mess after you left. Not even he could fix it all. Some places at the castle, well, he's just sealed them off. Same with parts of the Labyrinth."

"She honestly did not hurt him, it was as she said, a magical explosion," Howl reiterated, then waved over the goblin carrying water and bandages. "Is there anything nearby we could use as a stretcher. We're going to have to hoist him out of here then carry him."

They gaped at him and shook their heads.

"We could ask the Junk Lady," one of the goblins suggested dubiously.

"Too far!" Hoggle snapped, "And on the other side of the castle."

"I'll carry him then," Howl declared with a grimace.

He stripped off his own torn shirt and folded it to put it under Jareth's head, then briefly inspected his neck, arms and legs.

"Doesn't feel as if anything is broken," he said dubiously. "Any of you know anything about fae?"

There was a solid round of shaken heads.

"Right." Howl grimaced. Sarah shuffled over and helped him wash away those grazes that were now clogged with sand from the oubliette. Jareth looked like a particularly scruffy mummy by the time they were done.

"Sarah, help lift him onto my back and tie him there," Howl ordered.

It took the strength of both her and Hoggle to hoist him up.

"Ooh, Jareth, what do you eat? Rocks!" Sarah grumbled, as they staggered under his dead weight. Howl awkwardly ducked around and hauled him into a very uncomfortable looking fireman's hold across his shoulders.

"Tie him on, I don't have the strength to climb and hold him!" Howl staggered across to the ladder and used it for balance.

"Indeed, you are much injured yourself," Sir Didymus observed.

"Shut it and hurry up," Howl ground out.

Using the rope the goblin had provided, Sarah hastily tied Jareth's arm to his knee, then wound the rope a few times around Howl and the unconscious king.

"You, fox and you," Howl pointed at Hoggle, "hold the ladder and do not let it move! Sarah, come up right behind me, if my strength fails, you hug us to the ladder and we slide down slowly. A ten foot fall can break bones."

"On it!" She walked up slowly behind them and by the end was shoving Howl up rung by rung by his backside. He levered himself onto the edge and clung like a limpet.

They were high above the ground with only lumps of rocks in the hard packed earth below. All about them was the hedge maze of the Labyrinth. In the distance she could see the castle at an angle she hadn't approached it before.

"Damnation, how high is this thing?" Howl groaned as he trembled with pain and exhaustion. "Why hasn't anyone repaired the ladders?"

"Now's not the time. Get up here everyone and hurry!" Sarah called down. The goblins scrambled up with their usual feistiness and Hoggle followed Sir Didymus. They drew out the ladder, tipped it and slid it down outside just beside Howl. They went down, but in reverse with Sarah protecting Howl. He stood beside the edge of the ladder and shuddered.

"Why don't you sit?" she offered.

"I'd never get up again," he said hoarsely as the others gathered around them.

"Okay, which is the fastest and easiest route to the castle?" Sarah asked.

"Which one?" Sir Didymus asked.

"Easiest," Howl declared immediately. "Flat walking. No climbing."

"This way!" Sir Didymus pointed and the goblins flanked them as they walked on. Sarah saw how slow Howl was and came up to his side and he gratefully draped an arm across her shoulders.

"We could try a double person carry," she suggested, setting her feet against his weight.

"No," Howl gasped. "If I stop, I'm down. Keep moving!"

They had not gone more than five hundred yards when the group in front of them seemingly vanished.

"Where did they go?" Howl groaned.

Sarah patted the walls and found an arch pretending to be a patch of hedge. She dragged them through despite Howl's grunt of protest.

"Thrice cursed fae magic, I can't even see its constructs!" Howl grumbled woozily.

The goblins found a patch of helping hands and spent their time high fiving them all as they passed, taking the left fork, instead of the right where the hands all pointed.


	18. Chapter 18

They waded through an ankle deep stream, and took its path for a while, the goblins darting about splashing each other. Hoggle fell back and watched their rear warily, the Labyrinth was not a place to be underestimated.

"What's there?" Sarah asked, her voice quivering with nerves.

"Nothing!" Hoggle declared far too quickly for that to be the truth.

They stepped out of the stream onto a broad sandy beach and Sir Didymus waved them frantically forward.

"This way, hurry!"

They all scrambled across as around their ankles the sand twitched like a long snake lay beneath and felt their passage. They stumbled into the maze again as hundreds of flat eel like creatures twitched from beneath the sand, many of them darting into the water.

"Electric eels," Hoggle shuddered. "You're lucky it's night, they weren't sunning themselves in the water. They can shock a goblin senseless if stepped on."

Jareth's breathing suddenly became laboured and Sarah and Howl picked up the pace as best they could. The goblins were now running, Hoggle walked a quick stride and Sir Didymus leaped and bounded. They marched through the Labyrinth, oddly meeting no resistance, and those denizens that dwelt there, took one look at Sarah's face and melted into the night. They did gain a discreet trail of the insatiably curious, some of whom, she realised must be going ahead to clear the way.

They staggered through the open gate of one of the guardrooms in the wall. The goblins manning it took one look and grabbed their weapons.

"Halt! What is you doing?"

"Getting to the castle before I die!" Howl gasped at them.

There was a sudden yammering of everyone wanting to know what had happened.

"Be silent!" Sarah yelled.

"BE SILENT!" Sir Didymus barked and there was a brief shocked pause.

"The fastest way to the Kings chambers, please!" Sarah ordered. "Does he have a personal healer?"

The guard gaped at them in degrees of shock, horror, terror and dread, their eyes turning to the figure coated in grey mud from the oubliette, his hair matted with dirt and leaves from the trek.

"That's the King?"

"Yes and he's damnably heavy!" Howl croaked.

Someone handed him a spear, which Howl took as a walking stick and then simply marched forward. The goblins scrambled around them and led them through the city. They pushed through the various passages to the Escher room.

"Ugh, I'm going to be sick," Howl slumped as the goblins who scrambled ahead were suddenly at right angles to them, running along the wall. Sarah grabbed his arm frantically as he almost toppled them both.

"Close your eyes and I will lead you!" Sarah ordered sharply. "You have five steps ahead of you, step, step, step," she called and they trudged on. "Flat section about four paces, careful, steps again, ooh, a long one, fifteen perhaps, step, step…"

.

The goblins lead them from the room and out into a section of the castle Sarah had never seen. A large chamber with a bench under the window and a table in the middle of the room surrounded by four throne like chairs. A long cabinet covered one wall and a map was painted onto the stone in pale brown lines. Every so often it shimmered. Sarah blinked, it was not a map of the Labyrinth as she had expected, though she found that easily enough, right in the centre beside a simplified sketch of a castle, no it was the sprawling extent of the kingdom.

"Don't look at it!" Sir Didymus warned her. "It will draw you in and you'll be lost to us!"

At that she and Howl both turned sharply away.

"What is it?"

"A map of what is needed," Sir Didymus answered as if that were obvious.

"What's it do?" Sarah asked as they crossed the room.

"It shows what is needed," Sir Didymus explained succinctly.

Howl snorted at that and they made their way to the goblins clustered at the tiled arch on the far side of the room.

"These are Kingy's rooms, no one goes in!"

"Well, that's where we're headed. Is there a healer in the castle?"

"Goblin healer, chicken healer, goat healer…"

"For the king?" Sarah interrupted.

"No, king only gets hurt around Sarah!" one of the goblins said and was hastily hushed and shoved out of the room by the others.

They all eyed her owlishly.

"A bed, for pities sake," Howl groaned.

"Come on," Sarah dragged him through the door, and no one followed them. Hoggle and Sir Didymus set themselves up as guards, but they didn't enter the rooms.

"Stop that, we need the help!" Sarah called.

"'s not worth my life!" Hoggle called over his shoulder.

"Kingy don't bog anyone in his chambers, he vanishes them! Never seen again!" A goblin explained.

"Then we're due a vanishing," Sarah snapped grumpily. "At least start a fire in that hearth and start boiling water!"

They scrambled to obey.

They trudged down a short passage that ended with a closed door. Sarah put her hand on the handle and shuddered as the magic swirled around her then settled again.

"If I'd done that, I'd quite likely be dead," Howl said hoarsely.

"Why didn't it fry me?" Sarah twisted the heavy handle and it gave a thunk as the latch clanked free. Howl's answer was a roll of the eyes.

She pushed the door open. Inside was a surprisingly spartan room. The floor was wood as much of the upper floors of the castle were. A bed stood against the near wall, unimposing and low slung and covered with the cream, grey and white crochet blanket that she had had as a young child. Sarah gaped at it, then stuffed that complicated infuriating conundrum to deal with later. The rest of the room seemed to take that as its theme. An oval rug in pale grey was spread beside the bed. Beside the wall opposite the door, sat a large chest and beside it a large wardrobe, both made of a very pale wood. An L shaped bookcase made of the same white wood fit in the corner. One part filled with books and scrolls, the other filled with a selection of glinting orbs. Sarah eyed them mistrustfully. The wall opposite the bed had a window that overlooked a courtyard with a misty waterfall falling on the far wall, but no mist entered the room. Pale cream curtains were loosely tugged to each side.

There was another archway off the room, and they stepped through to find a bathing chamber. A stone bath just large enough to sit in was set against the far wall. To the side of the bathroom was a wooden cabinet with drawers, and atop it a shallow stone basin, at that moment, empty. Above it, an oval mirror, just large enough to see ones face rested on pegs driven into the masonry.

"This," Sarah said pointedly to Howl, "is how to keep a bathroom, neat and tidy."

"I'm going to fall over," Howl said as he staggered and slammed his hand into the cabinet to keep himself upright.

"Oh, damn, I was so thrown by this place, I forgot. Hang in there, I'll untie him!"

Sarah scrabbled at the knots as Howl steadily breathed as his arms shook with the effort of remaining upright. She finally unwound the rope. Howl simply sank down, collapsing almost on his face as Jareth sprawled onto the bathroom floor. She dragged him off and turned to Howl.

"I'm going to pass out now," he said faintly and closed his eyes and went limp.

"No! No! You do not get to do this to me!" Sarah stamped her foot then sank down, dashing away tears of frustration. After several deep breaths, she arranged Howl in a recovery position. She then turned to Jareth, equally as helplessly. She spread him out on his back, as that looked the least injured, then dithered.

"Okay," she told herself firmly. "First aid. I can do this."

She stood, feeling rather buoyant without Howl's weight.

In the cabinet were bottles of perfume, one of that scent she loved, and several small tubs of makeup, and various lotions. It was disappointingly ordinary. There were no first aid supplies there, so she headed back out.

.

The goblins were good at getting things done if they wanted. She stepped out to find several boiling water in cauldrons over the fire. A bucket and several pitchers were set aside for her. A basket of clean bandages was waiting beside Sir Didymus, and a box of bone needles and thread. A case of ointments stood open beside it and a rather elderly goblin with grey hair waited, twitching his ears nervously.

"Hi, are you the goblin healer?" Sarah sank down onto the floor before him.

"I'm chief of the healers in the city. They say the King is injured. A magical accident. Some say it is your doing, as only you can harm him. Yet you are here. They tell how you and your Wizard Master dragged him out of an Oubliette and across the Labyrinth. Do you wish him well?"

"Of course!"

The goblin blinked owlishly at her.

Sarah almost fell over in exhausted frustration.

"I wish" she said pointedly, "that the Goblin King recovers his strength, vitality, magic and health, and is as well as he can be!"

She felt the magic take, then leapt to her feet and ran back into the bathroom. She could feel the swirl of magic there. Howl perked up groggily and blinked at her.

"Ugh, that was some strong fae magic." He pushed himself up to lean against the cabinet, blinking, but untouched by the spell she had directed at Jareth.

"Would it harm you if I used it on you?"

"What? You can use fae magic? Don't!" He held out his hands in alarm. "Calcifer would take it badly."

"You're hurt!" Sarah grouched.

"No, I mean, fae magic would be more harm than healing." He let his arms slump.

She noted that, and settled down beside Jareth. He didn't look any better.

"Why didn't it work!"

"Possibly because this is the heart of his domain, he probably has wards that only allow him to do magic here."

"But it's here," she wriggled her fingers through the air around him. "It's just not doing the work."

"Wards are tricky in their interpretation of intent," Howl declared. "I feel like death warmed up. I'm going to see if I can't get my head wound seen to by whichever healer they have dug up."

"Chief of the goblin healers, and I think he knows his stuff. Looks a bit medieval though."

"Not if they use magic, some of the tools are a channel, like a wand? Only to a particular purpose."

Howl pulled himself up wearily and then using the wall for support lurched out of the King's chambers.

.

"You're such a drama queen! Nothing goes easily for you, does it?" she snapped at Jareth. He continued to lay on the floor.

"Okay. I'm off to see if the healer can enter these rooms. If not, we're dragging your sorry ass back out there!"

She found Howl sitting on the ground stripped to his boxers. His legs were covered in bruises and his thin shoulders and much of his right arm and head had scrapes and cuts. Two goblins stood, one at his back, the other at his arm, picking out splinters. Howl simply had his eyes closed and gritted his teeth.

"You can use your magic here," Sarah prompted.

"I'll keel over and pass out if I do," Howl grunted then hissed with pain.

"Sorry!" The goblin wielding the tweezers yelped.

"Keep going," Howl growled.

She turned to the old goblin who was watching with sharp eyes.

"Can you enter his chambers?"

"I could, if you granted me sanctuary and permission," the elderly doctor told her.

"Please, would you enter the King's chambers? I grant you sanctuary from all the wards and their retribution, for as long as it takes to heal the King."

The goblin nodded and selected several vials and small pots which he set out beside Howl, then lectured his assistants.

"Paste on all the blood wounds, scrub your hands before you apply it. You'll need to cut his hair."

"No!" Howl jumped and clamped his hands to his head and then hissed and whimpered in pain.

"Then they will have to wash out the blood. Braid his hair out of the way then! If it is too bad, call me, we will discuss his vanity with regards to his health."

The very mean stare the goblin shot Howl actually made him flinch.

With that declaration, he turned to Sarah.

"Carry through the largest pitchers you can," he ordered.


	19. Chapter 19

She entered before the goblin and he winced slightly as he passed the door, but didn't otherwise react. He paused at the arch of the bathroom.

"The magic isn't settling," he sounded bemused. "You spoke well, but something is keeping it from him."

He examined the air then inspected Jareth himself.

"Perhaps there is some charm on his person to prevent it," he mused. Let us get the worst of his wounds seen to. That side looks bad, as does his arm." He spoke aloud to himself as he lightly examined Jareth's arms, much as Howl had earlier, checking for internal injuries. He worked down his body with swift efficiency and removed his boots with a brisk tug. He then checked his head and hissed.

"A head wound, you did not say! That is not good!" He fussed around, lightly poking and prodding, all the while murmuring to himself.

"His scull seems whole, but if he's that unconscious, it could be very bad. In goblins, head wounds can take your wit and verve and leave you an empty shell."

"Ugh," Sarah half sobbed as she sat down. "Is there any way to get him Aboveground, I'll take him to hospital there!"

"It is my understanding they use iron in their implements."

"Oh, yeah, oops."

The doctor gazed at her.

"You are not unintelligent, you simply do not think wholly for him, which you must learn to do. He cannot protect you always, though he will always try."

"What can you tell me about his kind of fae people? I know absolutely nothing about him."

"They exist half in magic, half in the physical realm. That he is this badly out of it means he squandered the majority of his magic. What happened?"

The little goblin doctor set about untying the messy bandages they had wound on earlier. Sarah shuffled around and sat picking out the knots for him while he cleaned and bound the wounds as he found them.

"We had a nice evening. He met my parents. My brother was so excited," she sighed. "I had a fight with my stepmother, and my magic went all out of control. Only he called it into a small space and I enclosed it in a crystal. After dinner, I met up with Howl and your King to work out how to diffuse the magic in the crystal. Only it exploded on us all. It went haywire and we were flung all over. Howl through a fence, Jareth across the concrete foundations and me across the lawn. He got up and did something to the flair just before Howl could. Only he then grabbed us and dumped us in an Oubliette. He then passed out. We negotiated passage across the Labyrinth, which reminds me I owe Aggsy my watch for his aid. He said something about the wards failing back Aboveground. I don't know how that affected things."

"So it was you who harmed him."

Sarah gaped at the goblin in horror.

"No! I honestly didn't mean to. You have to believe me! I'd never intentionally hurt him."

"Yet you do," the doctor tied off the bandage and started on the next wound. He spent a while picking glass out of the wound and Sarah flinched.

"By rights I should have blown my hand off with what happened," she marvelled at her right hand that wasn't injured in the slightest. "How did he get crystal shards into him?"

"He will always protect you," the goblin said quietly. "You are learning to protect him, I suppose. You brought him here and the room wards must have sensed your desperation as they allowed you sanctuary without you requesting it."

"Then why aren't they allowing the magic to heal him!"

"It may not only be crystal shards forced into the skin. There is iron above ground."

"The foundations are a construction site. Ugh! How did he land? Has he got any nails or iron filings in him?"

With the goblins help she peeled him out of the ragged mess his elaborate evening clothes were, down to a plain pair of drawstring shorts he wore as underwear.

"Turn your back miss, better still go and fetch fresh water!" He ordered.

She did as he asked, and when she returned, she found Jareth lolling uncomfortably on his side propped up by several rolled towels. The goblin had replaced the shorts.

"This!" The goblin had a wooden box filled with several scrapings of dull metal. "This is not good. If he were a goblin, he'd be out for days with iron poisoning. His Majesty, I've not heard him take ill of it, but as poorly as he is, it would account for much."

Sarah knelt beside him and helped to pick grit out of his back and side and wash the wounds.

.

She was seeing double by the time they had washed and bandaged his head. The goblin trickled several sips of water and various medicines down his throat, then sent Sarah out for Howl. The bandaged Wizard was lying against the wall near the fire, his head on a folded towel and a rug wrapped around him. She roused him and Howl groggily sat up.

"I'd just fallen asleep," he hissed over his pain.

"We've got to move the king to his bed."

Howl groaned and trailed after her, still only clad in his boxers. Bandages covered his chest, arm and head.

"The both of you are so skinny!" Sarah remarked. "I'll let Sophie know to feed you more."

"I'm neatly trim, I'll have you know!" Howl said, offended.

"Are those ribs I can see?" She poked them and Howl grumbled as they approached the bathroom where the goblin sat gently drying the King's hair.

"I shall take my leave, are you going to sit watch over him?"

Sarah and Howl blinked tiredly at each other.

"I'll bring my blanket, we can take shifts," Howl said, clearly beyond tired.

Sarah pulled the blankets back then they both picked him up and carried him to the bed. Howl settled him into a recovery position and to their alarm, he groaned.

Sarah crouched down beside the bed and poked him.

"Hey, Jareth?"

He didn't respond.

"I'll be by in the morning," the goblin declared and headed off.

Howl settled his towel pillow and curled up on the mat beside the bed. Sarah pulled the crochet blanket around her shoulders, it was hers after all, and leaned against the bed. Howl was asleep within moments. Sarah kept nodding off and took to pacing around the room to stay awake. She stood by the window and watched the waterfall, then checked on Jareth. He slept soundly. That worried her. Wasn't she supposed to wake someone with a concussion? She sat down on the mat and leaned on the edge of his bed and before she knew it, she was asleep.

.

She felt something tickle her nose. She wrinkled it and shifted her head. It tickled her nose again.

"Toby!" she complained.

The tickling didn't subside and she turned and buried her head in her blanket, only to find that it had fallen off in the night. She reached for it and groggily realised she had fallen asleep upright, sitting, was she at her desk? She raised her head and stared at a mismatched pair of blue eyes. She smiled. What a perfectly lovely dream. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. He then lifted the end of a lock of hair and twitched it across her nose.

"Stop it, you," she mumbled and then realised she was awake. She sat up.

"You're awake!"

He hissed at the noise and clenched his eyes shut.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Mmh, wazzit?" Howl put his head out of his blanket.

"Jareth's awake!" she hissed quietly.

Howl sat up at that and cracked a yawn.

"It must be four in the morning. If you're awake, do you need help getting to the lavatory, 'cause if not, I'm headed to the outer room to catch some sleep away from chirping love birds."

Jareth blinked then grimaced.

"I've not felt so unwell since I last fought a campaign," he grumbled. "I'll take your assistance."

With him leaning against Howl, they hobbled off, Sarah wished she could show Sophie the moment; she would have a good laugh at skinny legs and wrapped up heads and arms. She then realised Calcifer must be doing his head in worrying about Howl. The men trooped back out of the bathroom and Jareth simply burrowed under his blankets and lay there watching her. Howl grabbed his rug and briskly trotted out.

"How did you get in here?" he whispered, "and to this room?"

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked. "I opened the door and this room was here."

Jareth smiled a silly happy smile at that.

"You must have been very worried."

"Damn it, Jareth. You passed out at the bottom of an oubliette. We had to lug your heavy ass up and down ladders, through streams, across the Labyrinth through that Escher room of yours and convince the goblin healer that you needed his services."

"No, you must have loved me and been very concerned for my comfort," he murmured.

"Well yes! The state you were in! The doctor found iron in the grit you picked up. Says it makes you ill."

"It does, but not for long," he said and smiled at her. "It can't be comfortable on the floor. Want to join me in bed? I'm not up for anything, just sleep, but you look like you could use the rest."

Sarah stood then realised she was still in her clothes from the night before and filthy.

"Do you have a shirt I could borrow?"

He gave a luxurious smile.

"The wardrobe," he pointed.

She found one that seemed long enough, and hurried off into the bathroom. She stripped off her clothes and hissed at her graze on her arm. She washed her hands and face from the pitcher of water left from treating Jareth then dried them on her jeans. She left her clothes in a pile at the edge of the bath then padded out. He gingerly shifted to the side and she slipped in beside him. They both lay carefully, trying to avoid the pressure on their wounds, but he caught her fingers in his and she settled her cold feet against his warm leg, making him hiss.

In retaliation, he trapped them.

"I'm glad you're awake," she whispered. "Everyone says I'm the only one who can harm you!"

He blinked sleepily at that.

"Yet you're the one who worked so hard to help me."

"Don't dismiss it, I'm sorry. I really am."

"I'm not. You're young, growing into your powers. I did worse in my youth; I landed one tutor in a sick bed for a month. I have no power over you, but I can counter what you throw my way."

"But you're so hurt!"

"So are you, and by the looks of things, Howl saw a healer and you did not! Some master he is, neglecting his apprentice."

"Mmh," she complained and sighed. "Thank you for not being angry."

"I have you in my bed, couldn't be angry if I tried."

She gave an inelegant snort at that. They lay there sleepily watching each other blink off sleep and mostly fail.

"It's exactly like I thought," she whispered and his eyes flickered open. "Your sheets, they have that gorgeous scent, I could sleep here every night."

"Please do," he murmured.


	20. Chapter 20

The soft, heartfelt honesty of his request for her to sleep in his bed every night almost spilled agreement off her tongue before her brain kicked in. Sarah swallowed hard and yawned, trying to get her brain to think clearly. This was an important discussion, why were they having it when they were both so out of it?

"Very tempting," she managed levelly, shying away from any sort of outright refusal. She then tried for levity. "It'd be the quickest way to get my father to kill you though. Toby might not give you any warning before chasing you with the poker."

"Yet you have no qualms aside from the fear of your male relatives."

"Mmh, they're just a good excuse." She yawned again. How to explain in a manner he would understand? "We have a weird enough relationship without bringing sex into it just yet. I want to get to know you first. Who you are as a person. I've watched too many of my theatre friends mess things up because they just spent their time in bed and not enough time working things through."

His eyes drooped closed.

"If you can think things like that in this room then you honestly can see through my glamour."

"Why?" She breathed.

"'cause the room only looks like this when I'm feeling miserable and in need of comfort. Tiny, contained, bare essentials, and comfort."

"What does it usually look like?"

He chuckled lasciviously.

"Visit me and see," he purred.

"Go to sleep, your head's taken a vacation and you're happily thinking with the other one."

He laughed at that, but it was soft and sleepy. He was soon asleep and she wriggled away slightly so she didn't crowed him and accidentally knock his hurting head then settled down.

.

She woke to someone tapping her shoulder. She didn't want to move she was so comfortable. Groggily she cracked an eye open. Howl stood with a sardonic expression on his face and gave her a little wave in the morning light that streamed in at the windows. The three windows that hadn't been there last night. They overlooked a range of snow capped mountains she had never seen before. She tried to move then realised the soft comforter wrapped around her was a combination of down duvet and Jareth. He had curled almost entirely around her and the large pale silk pillow they both occupied.

"Not moving," she told Howl.

Howl put both hands on his hips. He was dressed in his own ragged trousers but wore a simple shirt borrowed from Jareth's cupboard.

"Sorry princess, but at very least that king of yours needs to wake up. There is this very fancy ambassador waiting for him."

"Ambassador?" Sarah squeaked.

"As far as I could understand the frantic gathering of goblins that ambushed me in the outer room. Something about a sneaky elf, nasty High King, tricky trade and a query about my bet on which oubliette he'd end up in."

Sarah wriggled into a sitting position and shook Jareth. He was dead to the world. It took her slipping out of bed entirely and stealing the blanket before he came to consciousness. He made a half-hearted grab and snapped something in a strange tongue.

"I don't speak that language, try English," Sarah declared.

Jareth's eyes sprang open and he blinked at her.

"You weren't a dream?" he breathed as if he did not quite believe his eyes.

"Nope. Still here. How are you feeling?"

"Cold," he closed his eyes.

"If that's all, you have some elf in your castle annoying your goblins enough they want you to assign him residence in an oubliette."

"Wha?" Jareth croaked and pushed himself up, only to wobble and land on his back hissing in pain. He turned his head then pressed his hand over his eyes.

"Ow. What happened?"

"Magical accident yesterday? We had to drag you across the Labyrinth and get the goblin healer to patch you up?" Sarah reminded him.

"Goblin healer?" Jareth croaked.

"You had iron in you."

"No wonder I feel so dreadful." He shakily pushed himself up and swung his feet over the edge of the bed and pushed himself upright. He managed two steps before stumbling on the burgundy and gold silk rug under his feet. Howl lunged over and caught him and they both went over in a more controlled slump.

Jareth sat with his head hanging, swaying slightly. Howl regained his feet, rubbing his rump with a wince.

"Close your eyes!" Jareth barked and startled at the urgency of his command, they did so. When Sarah peeked again, the room had reverted to the one they had found the night before. She now held the crochet blanket in her hands.

"I can't even control my magic," he whined.

"You need a healer of your own people," Howl declared.

"No," he said flatly.

"Stop being so stubborn and look after yourself!" Sarah crouched down and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.

"It's," he slumped against her, shaking. "It's not stubbornness."

"Then why can't you admit you need help?" Sarah asked, irritated.

"Because if I show any weakness, they'll send more assassins and might just succeed this time."

"This time?" Sarah growled. "Who has been trying to kill you?"

He chuckled.

"My Sarah, my own avenging angel."

"It's not funny!"

"Everyone," he breathed.

"I can't imagine why," Howl remarked blandly.

"And you're not running away from assassins yourself," Jareth sneered at him.

Howl opened his mouth to retort as a pained expression crossed his face and he subsided.

"You're in danger?"

"Not if no one knows."

"How long are you going to be out of it like this?"

"Don't know," Jareth whined, "I'm never sick."

"You're impossible, you know that?" Sarah lightly put her arms around him. "How well guarded is this room? Should I set Toby with his iron poker at the door?"

"No, but ah ha!" he turned and smiled slightly cross eyed at her. "You're part of the Labyrinth!"

"What's that mean?"

"You could get in here! The magic recognises you. See if you can take it up?" He turned in her arms and kissed her on the forehead. It was no ordinary kiss, it burned. It set fire and ice tingling through her, and then she felt it, the entire roiling mass of chaotic magic that cooled and burned and twisted through not only the Labyrinth but pooled in various placed around the kingdom.

"That was a very foolish idea." Howl ground out as Sarah came to awareness, still hugging Jareth. Howl supported them both.

"Worked though," Jareth smirked.

"She has no discipline! That was your chief complaint. She'll turn your kingdom to ashes and cinders!"

"She can find this room. No she won't, she loves it too much for that," Jareth smiled as his eyelids drooped.

"No! You're not passing out on us! What did you do that for?"

"Sarah is queen, let her rule."

"You fool, she knows nothing!" Howl barked at him.

"She's just needs to delay them. I'll be able to sit up by tomorrow, right now, can you find a basin? I'm going to throw up."

Howl found a pitcher and Jareth hugged it for several miserable minutes.

.

Sarah stood and rubbed her forehead, it still burned, but not in any way she could soothe with a touch.

"If you've made me queen, does it mean I have to deal with that annoying elf?"

"He's probably the trade negotiator from the High King," Jareth croaked. "I usually make him cool his heels then give him the run around and send him back to ask for better deals. I never agree to anything. They don't have anything we want that we can't get elsewhere with a little hard work."

"What do I say? How do I introduce myself?" Sarah panicked.

"Queen of the Labyrinth, and make it up as you go along. You know how to run a household, a kingdom's the same, only bigger."

"I only have to feed four people back home!" Sarah snapped. "How many citizens do you have?"

"Don't know, several million, I assume."

"Don't you do any census for tax purposes?"

Jareth snorted.

"Just try to explain to goblins about taxes, I'd get shiny rocks and leaves as tribute."

"But you said, the other day, that taxes are regulated."

"They are, just not here."

"What a good idea," Sarah breathed with a smile.

"Of course, it's mine," Jareth preened, "which one, precisely?"

"Aggravating ignorance, nothing drives anyone up the wall faster!"

Jareth grinned and with a grimace of concentration and a twist of his hand produced a crystal.

"Take this with you, Howl and I will watch."

They helped him back into bed and propped him up against pillows, but he soon sank down in a half doze.

"Wake me if she says anything good," he mumbled to them then drifted off.

Sarah clasped the crystal in both hands.

"He's going to be impossible when he's back to normal," she breathed as they left his chambers. "If he's not mortified and trying to cover it up, he'll be insufferably smug."

"The way he roped you in I'd be inclined to bet the latter," Howl declared, then grabbed her arm before they reached the door.

"What?"

"You're only clad in the King's shirt?" Howl reminded her.

Sarah flushed with embarrassment.

"And my hair is an absolute mess!" She waved Howl out of the room. "Go and ask the goblins if there is anything I could wear while I wash."


	21. Chapter 21

Sarah had wound her damp hair into a bun and tied it off with a strip torn from the bottom of her ruined shirt. She had sneaked a little of the King's makeup to touch up the bags under her eyes and pale cheeks. Howl returned with a very familiar white dress with puffed sleeves.

"I should have known," she grumbled, but couldn't keep the fond smile off her face. She shimmied into it and Howl complained about the silly fiddly buttons at her back.

"No, I refuse! Every second button will hold just fine!" he finished the chore with accompanying frustrated muttering in Welsh. He marched over to the King's wardrobe and returned with a midnight blue shawl that he folded into a triangle and draped over her shoulders.

"Here, this will cover it."

Sarah sat on the edge of the bath pulling on her sneakers.

"Very fetching," Howl remarked sardonically.

"I could go barefoot, but I might have to kick someone, so I thought, be prepared."

"You think the ambassador will be that bad?"

"You never know? Jareth certainly was!"

They both inspected the King who was now truly asleep in his bed.

"He's really ill," Sarah whispered, worried. "Look after him?"

Howl ran a hand through his hair.

"I can't believe I'm doing this, he owes me a huge favour."

"Thanks, cousin."

* * *

Sarah wandered out into the room with the fireplace and the map and found several delegations of goblins, some crowded on the table, others sitting by the fire, and yet others occupying the four chairs that had been dragged to the side of the room under the map. She glanced at it and swayed on her feet. Several areas glowed, not urgently, but distinctly making her aware there were issues to be seen to in those parts of the kingdom.

She clutched her head and groaned.

"Is Queen!" one of the goblins shouted and she was instantly mobbed. Hundreds of eager little hands reached up to touch her and jostled for place around her.

"This is most unseemly, desist this instant!"

Sarah was never so glad for Sir Didymus in her life.

"One at a time!"

"Not now," Sarah cut in sharply. A scramble to form a snake like queue around the room soon dissolved into a huddle with goblins fighting to be in the front. They paused for a second.

"If I'm Queen of the Labyrinth, could I send you all off to an oubliette?"

There were instant choruses of "yes," hastily hushed and drowned out by the more intelligent yet no less subtle, that told her "not exactly."

"Ah, then why are you all here? Jareth needs a rest day. He sent me out to deal with this elf that's arrived."

A whiny chorus of 'that elf' erupted and they soon separated into their groups once more. One lot were complaining about how the elf had turned the goblin grog into overly sweet elf wine. Another group complained he ordered them about and they were kitchen staff, not general servants. The third group produced a grubby scroll, poorly rolled, with the contract the elf wanted to negotiate on it. The fourth reported what they thought the worst misdemeanour in scandalised tones.

"He's sitting on Kingy's throne!"

"Chased all the chickens out of the throne room!"

"Threw nasty elf magic around!"

"We can't have that," Sarah declared.

She inspected the scroll. It wasn't in any language she could read. That would make things easier.

She tucked it under her arm and waved for the goblins to lead the way.

* * *

They took her a different route through the Esher room and she came out into the throne room through the back wall. The place was oddly quiet, far too clean and empty. She could see several goblins peeking out from behind pot plants that had not been there the last time she had been there. Jareth's throne was now draped with a flowing damask cloth of deep green velvet. On the throne, lounging back like a regal king, sat what had been described as an elf. Sarah stared. He was like human, but not quite, rather like the difference between a cat and a lion. They were both shaped like cats, but the lion simply held power. This elf was slender, yet exquisitely beautiful in an alien, androgynous way. He, she assigned him the gender as the goblins had been using it, wore a gold embroidered green robe reminding her of spring leaves. From the knee down it was split at the sides, with dark green trousers beneath, tucked into his black boots. He wore so many rings he could use them for knuckle-dusters. A pendant made of a series of three small crystal orbs hung around his neck. His hair was paler than Jareth's yet he had the same striking blue eyes. Where Jareth's held mischief and passion, his only were disdainful and cold. She could see the muscles corded in his bare forearms, where the loose robe sleeves fell back to his elbows, and wondered if Jareth were half-elf, his lithe form and colouring were almost the same.

"Hello," she said cheerfully as she crossed the room. "Who are you?"

"What," he replied in very accented English, "are you?"

"I'm me!" she smiled at him and swept across to the throne. "You can call me Queen if you like. Do you have a name?"

She walked up the steps to the throne and plumped herself down beside him.

He drew away as if she'd bathed in the bog. She sniffed the sleeve of her gown.

"I did wash before coming!"

"You're a mortal!" he sounded scandalised.

"Yeah! You're an elf. Pointy ears and all! So, mister elf, what's this all about then? I can't read it!"

She handed him the scroll and then settled back to clasp the orb Jareth had given her in her hands.

He held the grubby scroll away from himself yet his eyes fixed on the orb.

"So Jareth is around, send him out. I have no patience for his games."

"No. He's busy. He thought he'd send me to get a summary of the high points and an estimate of all the twisty little tricks you're trying to lug our Kingdom with and then to tell you to take a hike."

The elf's jaw dropped. He had pointier teeth than Jareth.

"Our kingdom?"

"Well, not yours, mine and Jareth's?"

"He married a mortal?" the elf croaked in utter horror.

"Do I look satisfied? Nope plenty of unresolved sexual frustration. Haven't slept with him once! So, not married. I'm just the Queen around here." She tossed the crystal. His eyes followed it.

"Are those anything like this?" She reached over to his chest and he slipped off the throne to gracefully stand. He clasped a hand over his pendant.

"Not in the slightest," he ground out.

"What a pity, Jareth can think of all sorts of uses for his! He's very creative. What can you do? I heard elves can sing illusions?"

His jaw worked a few times and he looked down at the scroll.

"Give this to Jareth!"

"Nah, the goblins checked it out, too long for us to bother passing it along. Then again, I'm not sure if they can read it either. Make it shorter, more honest and we may even read it next time. What language is that, we'd have to learn it."

"No mortal eye has seen the language of the high elves."

"Little circular sort of cursive squiggles? Like that right there. One mortal, looking right at it."

He snatched the scroll back and glowered at her.

She pulled up the drape of damask velvet and stroked it.

"Your cloak is beautiful," she murmured and he snatched it out of her hands and haughtily draped it across his body with swift sharp actions.

Sarah leaned back on the throne and eyed him. She kicked her sneaker covered feet.

"Good. Now get out. If I ever see you on this throne again I will find a particularly deep and dank oubliette and fill it with twisted rose vines. It will be your residence while you abide in this kingdom."

"Have you any idea who I am mortal?"

"A very rude elf who did not introduce himself, sat on the ruling monarch's throne and generally insulted all the kingdom's citizens. Do I need any more to know your character?"

He drew himself up.

"I have the ear of the High King; I negotiate directly with his outlying territories."

"Oh, one of those? Just 'cause you wish to raise your status by sheer arrogance doesn't mean you need to lie. This is a sovereign kingdom. We serve no High King. Tell him, the next time you see him, actually, here, let me write something for him."

Sarah concentrated and silently wished for the legal pad and pen on her desk. It appeared in her hands and she propped it on one side of the throne.

"Dear High King.

We had the delight of meeting your elvish trade negotiator today. He needs to be taught how to deal with mortals. He didn't even give me his name, or at very least a title to so address him. So I return this with the unread contract, seriously, Your Majesty, it's too long. The goblins even got bored with it. You know we're not really interested, and now that this whole pretence is done, and you've inspected our kingdom, be honest about your piss poor spies. Oh, and remind this trade negotiator of yours that we aren't under your over watch.

Hope you and your wife are in good health.

OXOX, Queen of the Labyrinth."

She folded it and handed it to him.

"See he gets that!"

The elf took it and skimmed over the lines, his face going pale.

"You cannot send this to the High King!"

"Feel free not to deliver it, I'll ask one of the Demon Mages to drop off a letter with the same sentiments in a few days if you don't."

"Demon mages?" he hissed, his eyes narrowing. "You've allied this kingdom with the sky demons?"

"Huh? No. He's just my cousin. No alliance needed. Blood thicker than water and all."

The elf nervously stared around the throne room and made as if to depart. Sarah grabbed the edge of his robe.

"Not so fast! Where are the chickens? Why is this place so clean? Also, please return the goblin grog!"

"I improved this place, do you like living in a hovel?" he sneered.

"No, we like living in comfort. Hurry up with the twinkly elf magic and you may go once it's done."

"Twinkly–" he spluttered.

"I could try do it myself, but you probably would hate the results." Sarah mused, then focussed and called up her favourite Arthur Rackham illustrations from a Midsummer Night's Dream and melded them in her mind until she could see the glades of the woods outside Athens. She silently mouthed the words and smiled as she felt the throne room was suddenly growing and changing. The walls grew stone trees with tinkling silver and gold leaves. The pot plants morphed into ripe blackberry bushes, the fruit protected by thorns and dark leaves. The ground was covered in short cropped grass and all around the throne rose vines sprang up. After a jarring ringing tinkling, there was silence as the leaves hung still. She smiled at the elf who had his mouth open.

"So? The chickens?" she prompted.

The elf dazedly walked over to a tree and stroked it. A moment later, several chickens and not a few goblins emerged.

"What of the grog?"

"It's such swill!"

"Don't be a snob, drink your sweet wine, but leave those who prefer grog to their own."

"A snob!" the elf huffed, but couldn't work up much irritation while examining the tree. He waved his hand and the cask at the edge of the hall became a barrel with a tap.

"Thank you, now off you go and don't go anywhere near the kitchen. They don't like how you ordered them around. They're not your servants, you know."

The elf looked very reluctant to leave, but after shaking himself, did so.


	22. Chapter 22

Sarah hopped off the throne and grabbed the crystal, then asked a goblin to guide her back to the King's chambers.

In the place of one of the windows was a view of the throne room. Howl sat on the clothing chest and Jareth was trying to remain awake in bed. She could see the effort it took as his head kept nodding forward and he blinked slowly. He smiled and held out his good arm to her as she entered.

"That was the High King's nephew, I think the reason he sends him is to keep him away from court. I usually try accommodate him for at least a week."

"Oh, sorry."

"No, I've been wanting to say some of that for years," Jareth smirked. "But I must ask: gold and silver leaves?"

"I was trying for an oak forest, but got several maple trees and climbing roses," she slumped down on the edge of his bed and settled against his shoulder. "I don't know where the metal leaves came from! I covered your floor in green grass, sorry, the chickens are going to make a right mess of it."

"You've a real talent for visualised magic," Howl remarked, impressed. "We'll go over the words and the result so you can learn to refine it."

She nodded.

Jareth kissed the top of her head.

"For your first act as Queen, you've done beautifully. I do like the thrones."

Sarah lifted her head and examined the image, a live feed from the throne room. A bower of twisted rose vines, the roses themselves bright copper, rose above the throne dais. Jareth's throne stood as it always did, and beside it stood a replica, though with a raised step so her feet would not dangle. She blushed furiously.

"Magic is honest," Jareth nuzzled her smugly. "You can stand in this room because you love me, not who I am, and you remade the throne room as your heart desires it to be."

Sarah gave a soft mortified groan.

"I've got so much to learn!"

"Don't worry," he said softly, "it's a beautiful tribute to your love."

.

"I must leave," Howl said. "Is there any way for Sarah to send me home?"

"Yes," Jareth yawned and slumped further down in his bed. "She can call her room from here, that's the most stable of her mirror connections. I trust you can return to Ingary from America?"

"Yes, it's just this place that has a drawing effect on my magic."

Jareth smirked sleepily at him.

Sarah called up her room and Howl slipped through. The moment he stood on the carpet he summoned his magic and was once again clad in his usual garments, though Sarah could see the faint blue overtones that betrayed the glamour.

"I'll tell your father you'll be away a few days practicing your magic. Don't do anything that will make me let Toby at you with that iron poker," he eyed Jareth for a moment. The Goblin King simply sank down in his bed as if asleep, which irked Howl to no end.

With a slight, sardonic bow and a gesture to remind Sarah to close the doorway, Howl left.

.

Sarah sat on the edge of Jareth's bed and stroked his hair out of his eyes.

"Get some sleep. It's not doing you any good to fight it."

"You stayed?" he whispered in surprise.

"Of course I did!"

He smiled slightly.

"Is there anything I can do to aid your recovery?"

The smirk on his face told her all she needed to know about his thoughts.

"Mind out of the gutter, Your Majesty."

He chuckled silently.

"Go to my Solar and bring me back one of your dream globes."

"Will that restore your magic?"

"No, only time will do that. The dream will take the edge off the worst of the side effects."

"What side effect?" Sarah gasped.

He opened one eye.

"Bring me one and I'll show you?"

"Any in particular?" she asked.

"It'll call to you, you'll see."

* * *

The goblins lead her to the solar.

"This Kingy's room, no one touch anything!" The goblins again waited at the door.

Sarah shivered as she felt the tingle of what must be the ward at the door, but nothing happened. The room was a few flights down in the Escher room, but what seemed to be the seventh floor of the castle. It was an open room with dark wood shelves filled with books and a long table surrounded with ten chairs padded with deep red velvet.

A thick silk carpet of patterned reds and ochres covered the open floor before the fireplace and on the opposite wall to the door were more shelves. These contained many glittering orbs. They were unlike the clear crystal ones Jareth made, they were brightly coloured and she could feel the sheer power of their magic. She tucked her hands behind her back before the temptation grew too powerful and sure enough Jareth was right, one called to her. It was near the end, and pale white with only a touch of blue for colour. She carefully picked it up and almost dropped it. For an instant she was forcefully transported back to her childhood, playing in the snow, dreaming up an entire fairy kingdom with snow dragons and snow ogres for the brave knights to fight. She bundled her skirt around her hands, shaking as she held the globe away from her skin. There was a moment of dissonance when she realised her memory of the event and the vivid dream in the orb were not quite alike. The dream somehow was more vivid, powerful and captured the bite of loneliness and the warm joy of for a moment resting in a place where she was, if not loved, at least a part of something bigger than herself.

.

She returned to Jareth's side and put the orb beside him.

"I don't know why this one was chosen, it's loneliness."

He cracked an eye open, the normal one, and smiled.

"That is a good harmonic to grief, it'll blunt the edges." He grasped it in his bare hand and Sarah blinked and all was different.

She now stood in a room of dark rich blues, the King now slept in a high four poster with all four drapes mostly drawn about him. The bath was white enamel with gold trim. There were elaborate doors off the side of the room, one open, and she could see an extensive walk in wardrobe. She turned to see the windows now overlooking the fields of several farms with sheep dotted over them.

"Jareth?"

He opened both eyes this time and when he caught sight of the room he grinned broadly.

"I must be feeling a little hen pecked, this is my bachelor's suite."

"As the only female around to do any hen pecking, I will gladly take my leave," she warned.

"Howl and the Goblin Healer can do twice as much complaining as you," he soothed. "You may return home to whatever studies Howl has for you. I'll be dreadfully dull and sleep all day."

"Are you sure?" Sarah didn't trust his dismissal. "Jareth, is this a magical illness? What is actually wrong with you?"

He closed his eyes and turned away.

"Oh no, you're not giving me that!"

She kicked off her sneakers and hiked up her very layered skirts and climbed onto his bed. She settled herself beside his head and stroked his hair, he leaned into her touch.

"Talk to me. I can't help if you don't talk."

"Promise me you wish only the best of intentions," he murmured.

"I promise you, Jareth, King of the Goblins, that I love you and only wish you well, always."

He opened both eyes and gazed at her as if drinking in her features. She then realised what she had just admitted and went bright red. She leaned over and rested her head on his chest.

"I can't believe that I said that out loud," she whispered.

"Thank you," he traced her lips with his finger then breathed out a deep sigh. "I am, among the fae, one who is able to see and capture dreams. What you did back in the kitchen was to translate your grief and anger at your situation into a sort of dreamscape, in order to control and ward it away from your heart. When you released it, you did not do it as one waking up, shifting it to a place at the back of your mind to slowly integrate into your being once more. You threw it out at Howl, myself and you as a stark nightmare. His fire demon protected him, that it was your own magic protected you, and I being both sensitive to dreams and your magic bore the full brunt of it."

Sarah sat bolt upright.

"I dumped it on you like a curse," she breathed in horror. "How do I get it off you?"

"I'll carry it for as long as you did," he said calmly.

"No! That's not fair! Tell me how to get rid of it. That's awful stuff! Please Jareth, please!"

"Sarah!"

She fell silent and briskly scrubbed at a rogue tear.

"What is done is done. There is no recall. You've pulled me through the worst. I should be up and about in a day or so."

She burst into tears and hugged him as hard as she could.

"I'm so sorry!" she sobbed almost insensibly into his shirt.

"Hush precious, hush," he crooned again and again, combing his fingers through her hair. Sarah clung to him and cried. She had never cried like this in all her life, not even when Merlin had died.

* * *

She woke, groggy and with the worst stuffy nose and a pounding headache. Her fingers were curled in Jareth's shirt and he lay on his back, idly plaiting thin braids in her hair and tying them off with tiny gems of glittering magic.

"Ugh," she closed her eyes again.

"Precious thing?" he murmured, his chest hummed with his voice and the shivers it sent all over her body brought her to full wakefulness.

"Why me?" she whispered.

"Why not?" he teased as he tied off the braid he was working on.

"Why do you love me? All I ever do is hurt you?" She couldn't even look at him she felt so wretched.

He laughed, his chest vibrating under her head.

"As you cannot see your own charm and beauty, I shall have to remind you of it until you do."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You're going to have to teach me crystal magic, and please, teach me the way not to hurt anyone first."

He trailed his fingers down her cheek.

"Of course, precious thing."

She grasped his hand in hers and drew it up to kiss his knuckles as he had so often done to hers.

"Love you," she whispered.

His smile was one of soft, and the usual light mischief in his eyes had darkened to delight.


	23. Chapter 23

They lay in silence for a long while. Jareth's bed was truly rather comfortable. Sarah was just drifting off again when a gong sounded, humming through the very stones of the castle.

The Goblin King tensed and she sat up in alarm, her ears ringing.

"Tell me that isn't what I think it is?" she gasped as Jareth groggily pushed himself up with a grim expression on his face.

"Oh, it is and you're with me on this, help me into my armour!"

He was in an abrupt mood, but it made him concise and exacting in his orders. Sarah helped him into his full suit of black leather armour. It wasn't the metal she had expected, but an odd laminate of leather, ceramic plate and wood. He slumped down onto the chest of clothes at the end of his bed, panting with the exertion that simple action of dressing took. He pointed at the wardrobe again and Sarah, now quite adept at interpreting the gestures, took down the leather worked helmet and the mask that went with it. He took them and then gave her appearance a grimace.

"You can't go in that. Find something dark and eldritch, I'm sure I have some robes and boots that will fit you. Hurry!"

Sarah ran.

She found a dark blue tunic, then drew out a flared robe that seemed blood red one moment and black the next. She snatched a broad black belt form the hooks that seemed to match the motif on the robe, and with some difficulty hunted through his tight trousers collection to uncover a clearly little used pair of gathered black trousers that covered her feet, and more importantly would get over her hips. She trooped back out after several seconds of intense frustration.

Jareth choked.

"You chose a blood robe?"

"I thought it would look cool? Shouldn't I?" She very regretfully lifted the garment up and turned to replace it.

"Only if you refuse to spill blood in my defence," he said.

Sarah hesitated.

"Is this the equivalent of wearing a sign saying 'fight me'?"

He grinned toothily and seemed enchanted with the idea.

"Jareth," she drew out warningly.

"Oh, it amuses me no end, precious thing. Wear it, do!"

As he seemed so pleased about it, and she could see there was great mischief there, she relented, then remembered why she was out in the first place.

"Can you help me undo these blasted buttons?"

Howl, at least, was sensible about the buttons. Jareth very much enjoyed trailing his fingers all the way down her back. She twitched and fidgeted and huffed giggles and darted out of his grasp several times until it was done.

"You're enjoying this far too much!" she scolded as she clutched at the dress and hurried into his wardrobe to change.

The robe dragged behind her like a train. She left her hair down and snatched the spikiest crown off his hat shelf and jammed it on her head as she stepped out.

Jareth sat with his jaw hanging open.

"You've taken clothing from different centuries, and styles, yet every last one of them is an executioners outfit. Have you killing on your mind, precious thing?"

She plucked at the clothes, they were clearly magical, as the robe fit her perfectly and the trousers and tunic shrank as soon as she drew them on.

"Not quite," she lifted the black trousers and waggled her white sneaker at him.

"We can't have that," he declared and the sneakers became black with the same motif of a flame the robe and belt had. "So?"

Sarah shrugged a little uncomfortably.

"I can't get the idea of people sending assassins after you out of my head," she admitted quietly.

"Oh, Sarah," he whispered and held out his arms to her. She ran over and hugged him fiercely. He ran his gloved hands down her back. "I have more than enough power to outwit any assassin they send through here, and the Labyrinth will answer to any call you make for my protection, do not fear that you have to physically defend me yourself. You're a dreamer, not a fighter."

Sarah pushed away from him with a fierce expression.

"I'll throw my worst nightmares at them if they took you down so badly."

"No, precious thing," he said firmly. "Not until you know what you are doing. You could give an enemy very powerful control over your mind. As it is I know every tiny and terrible fear you own, you may disable them briefly, but in time the curse will backfire against you a hundred fold."

She groaned and sank down beside him.

"Why do I feel I am going to make a hundred mistakes a day for you to clean up?"

"Welcome to being an apprentice. It's how you learn."

"Don't we have to go and claim a wished away?"

"Help me down to the armoury, and choose a mask that will hide your face. There should be a Blood Flame mask near where this one was." He tapped his own.

She snatched it up and he tied it on, then with both hands ran his fingers down her hair. Instead of the tiny sparks of green, yellow and white he had used to tie off her braids, they all became deep red rubies.

"If they've any fae blood they'll be quaking in their boots at the sight of you," he said smugly.

.

The Goblins took one look at her and with the shrieks and frantic yelps of terror cleared the waiting room in under three seconds.

"Jareth," Sarah growled at him. "What does this outfit mean?"

He simply chuckled smugly to himself.

They walked down, upwards and sideways across the Escher room to a corridor that looked out over the Bog. There were closed glass windows over every opening.

He shuffled into a long hall with numerous weapons adorning the walls and in racks by the walls. Sarah stopped at the door but he headed directly to claim a smooth black staff just shorter than he was tall that rested in a rack on the far wall.

"You could outfit an army of elves with all this," she gasped.

"The king's guard, yes," Jareth replied.

"You have a guard?" She had only ever seen the goblins who served as his guard, and to be honest they were more enthusiastic than proficient.

"Once," he said softly.

There was an odd tone to his voice so she dropped the topic.

He walked back towards her, using the staff as a walking stick, but appeared more collected than he had been.

"Let's go and see what has happened Aboveground for them to summon me, shall we?"

He held out his arm for her and she took it.

The transition to the place where they were summoned was odd, she could feel how he drew on the power of the Labyrinth and used the power gained by so many to tread its paths to find the exact one who was to tread it next. It was almost as if there was already a link in place.

.

Sarah gave a dry gasp as Jareth drew her sharply against his side and flared his cloak about them both to protect them from the violent heat. All about them fire roared. A sudden explosion shook the building they were in and Sarah peeked out to see a city lit up in the flash of an exploding bomb, fire running rampant and hundreds of people fleeing through the streets. The floor they were on creaked ominously.

"Please! Please!" A voice croaked huddled in a tin bath under a table, then broke into a spasm of coughing. Jareth ducked down and Sarah had to crouch down beside him. Inside was a dumpy woman with sun damaged skin and a ragged shawl over her long honey brown hair. In the water bath with her she had three children, the youngest perhaps a few days old and the eldest not more than two.

"Goblin King, you came!"

She felt Jareth go almost boneless beside her. Alarmed she grabbed him and he glanced at her, his eyes shimmering with tears. He turned back to the woman, almost fiercely.

"Why did you not call my goblins?" he asked, heartbroken.

"They would burn in this heat, same as us, let there only be one gone, not many."

"Sarah," Jareth whispered. "Take the three children back to the throne room. Try not touch the tub, it is cast iron."

She crawled across and was surprised when the woman kissed each child on the head before handing them to her.

"Give them good strong names and let them grow as fine goblins, m'lady."

Bewildered, but hasty, as the room was growing hotter by the second, Sarah gathered the tiny baby in her arms and settled the other two into her lap. She summoned the image of the throne room and felt the Labyrinth's magic snatch her back. She ended up in the grass before the thrones surrounded by several stunned goblins. She snatched the mask off and they blinked owlishly at her.

"Anyone know what to do with burned children? Someone get a healer! Fast!"

The eldest child began to cry.

Sarah sat rocking them all, as they in chorus all howled their heads off. The healer was a young female goblin, who took one look at the situation and sent off for more helpers, and a bevy of females soon surrounded Sarah. One, a wet nurse who saw to the tiny baby's needs, the others sang and clapped and distracted the younger children, until a gruel could be made up for their supper.

Jareth trooped in just as they were finishing off their plates, leaning on his staff, exhausted. He lightly tossed a crystal in the direction of each, as soon as they touched the child it shattered like a splash of water and they became small goblins as the change rippled through them.

"Name them, Sarah." He declared and sank into his throne, one foot over the side.

"What's a good goblin name?" Sarah hissed at the nearby healer in alarm.

"You choose."

"The eldest boy is Henry, the middle girl is Eliza and the baby boy is Freddy," she stammered out.

"Pygmalion," Jareth said with wry amusement behind her.

"You try thinking of good names on the spot!" she snapped back at him.

"Henry, Eliza and Freddy, as they are a whole family, they shall be granted as a whole family. Summon the head of the Keldwar clan in the southern Drawlands, there are three petitions from their people, and they shall become Keldwar."

At that, the goblins broke out into a wild celebration. The eldest, Henry, bobbed about and clapped his hands just as any excited child would do. The younger two seemed too bewildered at their transformation to do other than cry.

"Sarah."

She glanced back at Jareth and he waved her up towards him. She picked up her mask and hiked up the stairs. She was surprised when he patted the spot on the throne before him. She sat down and leaned back against him. She could feel how he trembled as he slouched there.

"Are you okay? What of the runner?"

"There is no runner, Sarah."

"What?" she gasped and turned to him, he still had that damnable mask on.

"She took the dreams."

"But she'll die!"

"She was already dead, heat and smoke inhalation is a slow acting yet sudden killer. She did what she had to do to save her children. At least this way she is not aware of the fire as it takes her."

She stared at him aghast.

"But you could have saved her?"

"I have a powerful magic, Sarah, but I cannot work against death. I'm sorry."

She watched a tear drip onto the collar of the cape he wore and turned around and gathered him into a fierce hug. He stiffened in surprise then curled around her. There was sudden silence in the room, then several cheeky goblins gave loud wolf whistles and the tempo and party of the celebration only became louder.

"Wake me if anyone approaches the throne," Jareth said and promptly rested his head on her shoulder and passed out.

Sarah shifted so she could more comfortably carry his weight and watched the party below. How Jareth could sleep through this cacophony, she had no idea.

.

An hour later, once the three new goblins were bedded down with the wet nurse in an alcove just off the throne room, Sarah decided to call it a night. With the help of the wooden staff and several goblins leading the way, she helped Jareth back up to his bedroom. This time it was carpeted with a wall to wall gold and white carpet. To her right was an elaborately carved box bed. Jareth gave a huff of a laugh when he saw it and swayed against her. She drew him over to his walk in closet and settled him on the bench within beside the mirror. She tiredly helped him remove his armour.

"What's so amusing?" she asked.

"My magic," he handed her the mask and rubbed his hand over his face. "Magic reacts to your intent, hence you choosing all the clothes you did. You wanted to defend me. This room reacts to my wishes, and I'm clearly feeling very vulnerable if all I want to do is hide inside closed doors and pretend the outside world does not exist."

Sarah knelt down beside him and began unbuckling his grieves.

"You're not often so vulnerable, are you?"

He blinked at her.

"No."

"Is it true that I'm the only one who can harm you?"

"It's something the goblins thought up," he said gruffly. "They didn't like what happened when you left after you beat the Labyrinth."

She allowed him his evasion and helped him with the rest of his armour then helped him into a night shirt.

"Wait here," she told him and pushed the wardrobe almost closed, then turned to the room. She concentrated as hard as she could; picturing every detail, then opened her eyes. She grinned as she found an exact replica of her own bedroom.

She pulled the door open and he stood there with both eyebrows raised.

"You wicked thing," he growled.

She giggled at him and helped him across to her bed. She tucked him in and he flopped face first in the pillow with a soft groan.

"It even smells of you Sarah."

She leaned over and kissed the ear that was all she could find of his face.

"Sweet dreams," she murmured.

The answering snort told her exactly where his mind was.

She pulled out the trundle bed beneath hers and curled up on it.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Thank you to all who read here! (Over 200 of you!)  
Thanks so much those of you who review - you keep me going! _

A character list to remind you midway through the tale:

Sarah Williams – Champion of the Labyrinth [Labyrinth]

Megan – Howl Jenkins' sister [HMC, the book]

Sophie Hatter – Housekeeper for Howl [HMC]

Michael Fisher – apprentice to Howl [HMC, a combo from the movie & the book]

Howl – (aka: Howell Jenkins, among other names) - Wizard of Ingary [HMC]

Calcifer – Howl's fire demon [HMC]

Robert Williams – Sarah's father [Labyrinth]

Karen Williams – Sarah's stepmother [Labyrinth]

Toby (Tobias) Williams – Sarah's younger half brother [Labyrinth]

Jareth – King of the Goblins, fae. [Labyrinth]

Hoggle – Gardener in the Labyrinth, dwarf. [Labyrinth]

Misc Goblins – Labyrinth denizens [Labyrinth]

Sir Didymus & Ambrosius – Terrier knight and his Hound steed [Labyrinth]

Elvish Ambassador – Trade negotiator from the High King [OC]


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: March 2020: Have been horribly sick these past 2 weeks. I couldn't even write it was that bad. Reading fan fic kept my mind off how awful I felt. Here's to others who are sick and wishing it were otherwise - have patience with your body and let it heal. To those stuck at home in isolation, strength to you! In the mean time, here is some more story. Enjoy._

_A/N: June 2020: (Still not wholly recovered, that illness was nasty!) Apologies to all who tried to read this when I initially posted it - gotta love the fan fic site and its random removal of things - in this case the ends and beginnings of sentences. Let's hope this works. Thank you to Lucidscreamer for pointing this out!_

* * *

She woke the next morning to someone humming a very catchy tune. She groggily opened her eyes to find Jareth dressed in nothing but a towel, traipsing across from the bath to his wardrobe. He was rubbing his wild hair dry at the same time. All the bandages and plasters were gone and his skin was once again smooth. She watched in contented bliss as he spent half an hour going through his wardrobe in a fastidious manner before exiting fully dressed in tight blue breeches, a contrasting waistcoat over a ruffled shirt and a blue dress coat. Humming yet another tune, he ambled over to her dresser, sat down and proceeded to touch up his eye makeup. Sarah giggled when he pulled one too many faces at himself.

He grinned broadly at her.

"I see the room stayed as it is," he declared happily.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"Either, this is your room, and you've managed to link the doors to my bathroom, waiting room and walk in closet to it, or I'm really comfortable here."

There was a knock at the door.

"Sarah?" Toby's voice sounded outside.

"The former it is," Jareth said happily. "I knew that pillow smelled far too like you for it to be a simple conjuration."

Sarah gave an alarmed squeak and stared around.

"What am I going to do! Where are my clothes?"

"Try your closet," he suggested and fussily set about combing out his hair.

She flew across to the door and stuck her head out. Toby breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Sarah, I just convinced mom to let me call you! Jareth's in your bed! Do you want to be grounded for the rest of your life?"

"Okay, what's the deal?" Sarah frowned; he was seven and already dishing out blackmail.

"Is Jareth any good at pitching?"

She burst out laughing and leaned back as the Goblin King fussed his hair into its regular lion's mane.

"Feel up to a jaunt to Aboveground? Toby wants to play baseball."

"Toby, tell your mother I'll be joining the family for breakfast. I'm bringing croissants."

"What's that?" Toby sounded dubious.

"I'll be sure to order some with an excess of chocolate," he said dryly.

"Yum! Oh, and Sophie is here!" Toby called then ran down the stairs calling for his mother.

Jareth got to his feet.

"I'll see you in a few minutes," he smiled then sauntered off through the door to the castle. She peered through it, it was the passage to his waiting room in the castle. She closed it and then opened it again, still the castle. She shut it hard and leaned against it. What was she going to do? She dragged her clean clothes from her cupboard, for one she'd have to keep the place spotless and hoover her own room so Karen didn't take an interest. It didn't once occur to her to change it back.

.

She found Sophie helping her stepmother to fry bacon. Toby and Michael were on the couch watching a home video from when they were younger.

"Wait for it, wait for it," Toby said and she turned around just in time to see her trip over Merlin and land face first in a mud puddle in the park.

"That hurt!" Sarah rubbed her nose, wincing at the memory; she'd had a black eye for a week.

"Still funny!" Toby chortled.

"You should have seen Howl the other day," Michael declared as Sarah confiscated the incriminating video. "He threw this huge temper tantrum, and called all the spirits of darkness." He lowered his voice and they shivered. "It was eerie, all these creeping shadows, then he coated everything he touched in this sticky drippy slime. Sophie had to drag him upstairs to the bath. It took me half an hour to scrub him clean!"

"He put slime on everything?" Toby wrinkled his nose. "Can Sarah do that?"

"She doesn't need to, she has goblins," Michael pointed out. "Howl said he wanted to test you today, see if you've got magic and all."

"Me?" Toby squeaked.

"Could be!"

Toby bounced on his chair then leaped up and ran to the kitchen.

"Mom, I might have magic, Howl says!"

Karen dropped the eggs on the floor. Toby quickly scuttled out of the kitchen again as Sophie tutted and helped her clean them up.

"It isn't so bad, Michael's a well behaved boy," Sophie soothed as Karen sank into a chair.

"So," Toby said keen to get off that topic, "why did Howl throw a temper tantrum? I thought grownups didn't throw temper tantrums."

Michael snorted at that.

"Sophie mixed around his hair potions, you should see how he looks now, it's black, but before that it was orange and then this purple red colour."

"Are hair potions anything like hair dye?"

"They could be."

There was a very thoughtful look exchanged.

"Change your hair and I'll get Jareth to add glitter to it," Sarah threatened. It backfired as that doubled their enthusiasm.

The boys launched themselves at the door when the Goblin King arrived with a box from the bakery down town. He stood with a foot in at the door as the boys explained what they wanted.

"And what shall I gain from this?" he asked, tapping his lip with his gloved hand.

Toby and Michael whispered together for a moment.

"Er, we'll help you with your chores for the day!" Michael suggested, by Toby's grimace he hadn't liked the idea but couldn't think of anything better.

"I'm not fishing them out of Oubliettes," Sarah said as she swanned past and relieved him of the box of croissants.

"Oh, no, I have a much better idea," Jareth said with a smirk.

"We have to wait till after Howl gets here, he wants to see if I have magic," Toby declared.

"You do, but a different sort than your sisters. You see things unseen," Jareth tossed over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen after Sarah.

"I do?" Toby scrunched up his face. "What does that mean?"

"You could see goblins, most people can't."

"Oh, I thought that was normal. What magic does Sarah have?"

"Words of command," Jareth settled into the chair opposite Karen as Sophie set out plates at the table.

"So what she says happens?"

"Sometimes, they have to be the right words."

"And me?" Michael asked, curious. "What magic do I have?"

Jareth peered at him for a moment.

"Howl is teaching you earth and air magic, but your natural talent is water, and weather magic. You're good at blessings that involve good harvests and safe passage across water and the like?"

"Wow," Michael breathed, "how did you see that?"

"That's my magic, I can read people," he grinned.

"What about Howl?" Michael asked.

"Fire and air," Jareth said firmly.

"And Sophie?"

"Oh, don't be bothering His Majesty so early in the morning, Michael. Toby, be a dear and fetch your father from the den, would you?"

Toby scuttled off and soon they were all tucked in around the table, eating bacon and what eggs didn't end splashed across the floor.

.

Howl knocked at the door just as they were finishing. Sarah let him in. His black hair was startling, but that was not the most worrying aspect. He looked exhausted.

"What happened?" she asked in alarm.

He gave her a grave shake of his head in the manner of 'tell you later,' his eyes flickering over to Toby and Michael. In that moment he raised a glamour, and all the drawn worry about his face simply disappeared.

"Why did you make your face all shimmery?" Toby asked curiously.

Howl halted half way through lifting his hand in greeting to everyone at the breakfast table.

"And that answers that question," he smiled at Toby. "Yes, you do have magic."

"Yes! Are you going to teach me like you are teaching Sarah?"

"Yes," Howl said quietly.

"Will I have homework like she does?" Toby suddenly didn't sound at all enthusiastic.

"He gives me loads of homework!" Michael put in and Toby groaned.

"I do have a few things to discuss with your parents first," Howl smiled. "Are you done with your breakfast?"

"Yeah!"

"Here, Michael, you asked for this the last time you came from the Williams' home." Howl handed over the paper bag he carried. Inside was a catcher's mitt and a baseball.

The two boys bounced in their chairs until Robert gave a nod. They ran for the back door.

"You'll be repairing any broken windows!" he called after them.

The door slammed on their reply.

.

Howl took Michael's seat at the table and Sophie heaped his plate with toast, and set the butter and honey jar before him. He didn't touch it, and instead leaned back in his chair and let the glamour drop. The effect was eerie, as though he had aged ten years in a second.

"I'm glad to find you here, Your Majesty," Howl inclined his head to Jareth. "I have a grave matter to discuss."


	25. Chapter 25

The tension around the breakfast table was thick. Sarah shifted uncomfortably, and her father and Karen both watched Howl intently. Sophie looked calm, but there was worry in her eyes.

"What is it?" Jareth asked, setting aside his plate.

"The situation I find myself in is somewhat compromised," Howl explained. "I am born a Welshman, grown in the United Kingdom and a citizen of that country. Yet I live in Ingary and am resident and registered as a Wizard in that country. As Sarah and Toby are family, I am obliged by my oaths to train them to a certain level of competence with their magic. You'll agree that Sarah at the very least is in desperate need of training."

"Yes."

"Tell me about it," Sarah cringed just recalling the last few days. Karen nodded rather too vehemently.

"However because there is no society of practising Wizards in this plain, the training I received is that of Ingary's Royal Sorcery Academy. My uncle sponsored my application, as I am obliged to sponsor that of Sarah and Toby's. By entering the Academy, or as they are currently doing, studying correspondence, they will become citizens of the Kingdom of Ingary."

"Oh," Karen perked up, "duel citizenship could be a useful thing,"

Sarah shivered at the sudden dark expression that washed over Jareth's face.

"No, not in this case," Howl said gruffly. "We are at war."

Silence fell at the table and Sarah felt a shiver run down her back. Jareth gripped her hand tightly in his. All Sarah could think about was that poor desperate mother hiding with her children under the table. She fought not to cry.

"Toby, like Michael, I could hide for another three years at the very most, but Sarah, she should have entered the Academy four years ago. Madame Suliman takes a dim view on hack witches, which she will be accounted if she does not register."

"Why tell anyone of her?" Jareth asked shortly.

"Binding oaths, you know the magical consequences of breaking them," Howl grimaced.

Jareth glowered at him.

"Why did you agree to teach her then?" Robert Williams asked harshly.

"He's bound by two oaths," Jareth interjected. "That to the order of Wizards, to train those he finds with magical talent and that to the Academy who trained him to work in service to their country."

"Robert, I told you what she did that night. If Jareth hadn't been here–" Karen eyed Sarah apprehensively.

"There is no question of not training her," Howl said with a sigh. "Only, I am summoned to the palace and must go, and I must take Sarah with me."

"No," Jareth said flatly as Robert thumped his fist onto the table.

"You want to take my daughter into a war zone?"

"I don't have any choice!" Howl ground out.

"What would happen if you didn't go?" Karen asked, Sarah was quite surprised when her stepmother grasped her arm as if she would vanish before her eyes.

"He would possibly fracture or lose his magic," Jareth explained. "Either way he would be severely compromised and be little more than a magical sensitive once the oaths were done with him. It is not an option."

Howl rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Have you registered them with the Academy?" Jareth asked, his voice suddenly smooth as if an idea had occurred to him.

"No, I've been delaying it as much as I can; I've held back all correspondence with the palace since I met her. However, the moment I step either into the Academy or into the Palace, I need to do so. I've perhaps two or three days before I must go, or face a squad dragging me out as defaulting on my oath."

"So they don't yet have any official documentation," he checked.

"No, what angle have you seen?" Howl looked as if he were a drowning man who had just touched a rock underwater.

"They cannot insist that a queen and heir of a foreign nation become subject to their own."

"What?" Sarah gasped at Jareth and Robert slammed his hand down with even more ferocity.

"I will not have my son and daughter sold off to one kingdom to save them from another! They are Citizens of America, they have rights!"

"Yes, within the realm of America and this plain they do," Howl agreed, "however I'm tangled up with Ingary and that drags them right in after me."

"So," Karen patted Sarah's arm absently, "Sarah needs to marry Jareth and Toby is to be adopted as his heir, so, so they won't be our children anymore?"

"That is about the only thing that will save them," Howl declared.

"This is positively medieval," Robert breathed in horror.

"It's a fairly good deal, all things considered," Sophie spoke up from beside Howl for the first time. "I heard that some wizards sign generational oaths, so that any Wizarding descendents they have to the second and third generation are automatically drafted."

"My uncle bribed Madam Sulieman to cut that out, as his father had done him. He said it was to each man to choose if he were to live and die by his own oath, not a father to make his son or grandson suffer."

"Neolithic then," Robert grated.

Howl gave a nod as if he agreed.

Silence fell around the table.

"Sarah, what say you on all this?" Robert asked gruffly.

Sarah clutched at Jareth's hand she could feel him trembling and trying to hide it.

"Could you excuse Jareth and I for a few minutes? We need to discuss this in the den."

.

Sarah shut the door behind her and turned to the Goblin King who now stood all haughty and proud in the middle of the room, watching her like an owl viewing a tasty mouse. If she hadn't felt him shaking earlier she might have been fooled.

"Jareth?" she whispered.

"What would you say, Lady Sarah?" he asked sharply.

"I, er…"

"I am not over fond of rejection that I need to hear it a second time!" He snapped.

"Jareth, what?" Sarah blinked at him as tears stung her eyes. She had hardly seen him this angry since she had run the Labyrinth.

"We barely opened betrothal negotiations with your cousin, and I know you, you dislike being forced into things. Your stubbornness is legendary."

"Jareth!"

"Am I wrong?" He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed into a filthy glare.

"No, but–"

"Then why are we here?" He shook his hand at the walls of the den. "There is no point to this!"

"Jareth just shut up and listen to me!"

"I don't need to hear it!"

"Aaagh!" Sarah stamped her foot. "I love you, you fool and yes I will marry you, is that what you are so afraid to hear?"

Jareth was left with his mouth open and his hand in the air.

Sarah grabbed his cravat and dragged him down to stare him straight in the eye.

"On one binding condition," she growled at him.

He blinked, then nodded hastily.

"You listen to the words coming out of my mouth rather than the words you think I will say."

He flushed pink at that.

"Sorry," he mumbled in a small voice.

Sarah stood on her toes and kissed him. After a moment he kissed her back then gathered her in his arms.

"Sorry," he breathed into her hair.

"So," she prompted and poked him in the ribs, "do I get my wedding proposal?"

He blinked.

"You just asked me and assumed I'd agree with it. In fact, you've done it twice," he scrunched up his nose as the idea occurred to him, "now and the betrothal contract –which I've yet to see a single letter of; that Wizard cousin of yours is slipping."

"Jareth?" she said warningly.

He gave her a shameless grin.

"My precious Sarah, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife for the rest of your days and all eternity, so that I may be beside you as your husband in the same?"

Sarah put her finger to her lips and frowned at the carpet.

"Sarah?" he prompted.

"I'm thinking," she said.

"What's there to think about, you already said yes?"

She gazed up at him.

"If Howl has three days, how much time can you rewind if goblin tradition requires a year?"

He blinked.

"It can happen the year after? Goblins are flexible."

"Who are you obliged to invite to your wedding and how much of the treasury will you empty because it is such short notice?"

"Gold is of no issue. I'll owe the High King a rather large favour, he is the only one I am obliged to invite," Jareth ground out, sourly.

"Why?" she exclaimed in surprise, "I thought you were not his subject."

"I am not. However he is my closest living relative and I need his witness."

"You're related to the High King?" Sarah sounded intrigued. "So you are part elf?"

Jareth scowled, thoroughly disgruntled.

"Half elf, half, well, no one knows. Not even my bloody father."

Something clicked in her mind.

"You're the _son_ of the high king?" she breathed incredulously.

"Seventh son, as he himself is a seventh son" Jareth sneered, "were I born to an elf maid I'd have inherited his throne, but as it stands I am a bastard and thus by quirk of magic, only inherit his power, not his privilege."

Sarah dragged a hand down her face as her stomach sank.

"And I just sent a really snotty note to him," she breathed faintly.

Jareth let out a shout of laughter at that.

"We're in a pickle, aren't we?" she fretted.

He reached out and hugged her.

"I'd not want him to discover you in any other way," he kissed the top of her head.

"Yes," she hugged him tightly.

"Hmm?"

"Yes, I will marry you."

He let out a huff of a laugh, then kissed her. She grabbed his face and covered it with kisses, the resulting power struggle ended with her pinned up against the wall and him grinning in triumph.

"Any more secrets of that magnitude that you've got hidden in your closet?" she asked as he teasingly kept his lips just out of her reach.

"None that you don't know," he promised.

She sighed in relief.

"We'd better return. Howl's probably doing his head in."

"I'd have my money on your father," Jareth corrected.

"Too true," Sarah slumped.


	26. Chapter 26

Sarah caught the morose expressions of her father and Howl and decided promptly that she'd had quite enough of that. If fate was going to ever upend her in situations beyond her control then she would have fun with those she could. She plumped herself down between Karen and Sophie.

"So!' she said brightly as Jareth almost nervously lounged at the kitchen door, "where and when are we having the wedding and who shall we invite?"

Robert turned around and gave Jareth an almost constipated look of gratitude and dismay.

"Sir," Jareth said calmly, "shall we allow the ladies to settle their delights and retire to more formal discussions?"

"Ah, yes," Robert said and stood.

"We'll need your witness Wizard," Jareth said to Howl as he conjured a crystal.

"You know, every time I convince myself that this is something I can get my head around you do something like that," Robert eyed the bauble.

"Do they fascinate you?" Jareth purred. "I could show you your dreams -"

"Jareth!" Sarah said warningly.

"Or not," he said easily with a cheeky smile in her direction.

"Howl, make sure he behaves, and if I hear one whisper of an Oubliette or the Bog, Jareth, your throne is going to sprout thorns for a month!"

"Precious thing, you wound me," Jareth put a hand over his heart.

Sarah just laughed and waved them away.

Jareth held out the crystal between the three of them and in a swirl of glitter, they all vanished.

Karen gasped.

"What happened?"

"Jareth probably took them to the Labyrinth," Sarah reasoned.

"It is his tradition that he shows Robert that he can support Sarah," Sophie explained, "The castle is not modern by any means, but will certainly house several families ten times over."

"A castle?" Karen said dreamily. "Do you think we can have the wedding there?"

"It will depend who we invite," Sarah said. "The less people who know about the Labyrinth the better."

Karen gave her a cool stare.

"Indeed."

"Look, I said I'm sorry," Sarah said wretchedly.

"Sarah, I understand," Karen said calmly, "It does not mean I forget or forgive you just yet. As far as I understand of the magical side of life is that a misspoken word can land you in the worst danger. That you had to carry that as a teenager is unfortunate, and now years later, you're still dealing with the outworking of that. It is only because you have a King as a benefactor and a cousin who is a Wizard that it is as painless as it currently is. By all rights, you should be dead and my son a goblin. Now be thankful that I love your father and he loves you, you are still welcome in this house. We have a wedding to plan, do we not? What do you know of his traditions?"

"I am not sure tradition would serve us well here, either way." Sophie interrupted smoothly. Sarah was grateful, she bit her tongue on her waspish retort, now was not the time.

"What did you have in mind?" Karen asked, not noticing.

"We could have two ceremonies. One a quiet one before the necessary witnesses and close family. The second a state wedding as is required for a king. His Majesty, I am sure, would like to invite the King of Ingary just to rub it in his face that Sarah is his and not a pawn to be played in his war games."

"You have that right," Sarah groaned.

"That's settled," she said, pleased. "We have today, which is Friday, then Saturday and Sunday. Howl has to report to the palace on Monday."

"Saturday afternoon for the ceremony," Sarah decided with a sigh, "That way I can find a dress at least, and any necessary paperwork and the like can be done, today or Sunday."

"Will you eliminate all religious ceremonies and stand before a magistrate?" Karen asked.

Sarah blinked.

"I was thinking that," then slumped back in her chair, "I don't even know what religion Jareth follows."

Karen had a scandalised expression and Sophie leaned around and patted her on the shoulder.

"If those books on the Fae that Howl has are any use they do have their own gods."

"Sarah," Karen breathed, "everything about this is the exact opposite to how we raised you, from religion to the rule of the land."

"And I loved a sovereign King, it does not mean I stop being an American or ditch God. Karen, just because that is one aspect of this relationship that you can understand and complain about, doesn't mean that there wouldn't be thousands more that you'd be vehemently against if you knew."

"And I am supposed to be happy for you?" Karen snapped.

"No, but don't make it any harder, please?"

"Robert has a friend who is a priest," Karen suggested tentatively and Sarah wrote a note for her father to contact him.

They sat in silence for a while.

"Want to go dress shopping in Kingsbury?" Sophie suggested. "They have a few dress shops that sell beautiful off the rack wear there."

"Oh yes!" Sarah exclaimed, relieved to find some distraction for her stepmother. "Karen, wear that outfit that you wore to the Halloween charity ball last year. I'll get my Edwardian dress. You'll love Kingsbury, I promise."

"What of Michael and Toby?" Karen asked.

"They will need page boy outfits," Sophie declared. "Let us call them in."

.

The boys raced to the house two streets away and Sarah gasped when they came around the corner. Toby and Michael were waiting for them on the veranda of a tiny white cottage with a red roof. It was only one floor, and took up the width of the original foundations, but only one fourth of the length. The rest of the foundations had been covered in smooth concrete and boxes of various herbs had been arranged in an elaborate kitchen garden. The burned grass in the back garden had been replaced by new turf and the fence repaired.

"Wow," Sarah declared. "Howl does know how to make a place pretty."

"He has an eye for beauty, but he's useless at maintenance," Sophie said with fond exasperation.

They all trooped in to greet Calcifer and Toby ran right over. Calcifer flared up at his approach.

"Another fae touched? Sophie!" he complained.

"Leave Calcifer be," Sophie summoned Toby back to them, we're headed to Kingsbury."

"Yeah! You wanted to see how the doors worked differently from Sarah's mirrors?" Michael showed him the switching mechanism and they were soon in the King's city.

"Upon my word," Karen breathed. "This is most extraordinary! And this is a completely different world?"

"Yes!" Sarah grinned. "We might even get a glimpse of the palace, it's beautiful."

Karen sniffed, clearly determined to dislike it as much as she disliked its warmongering King.

.

They took a steam taxi back to the residence of 'The Great Wizard Pendragon,' loaded with wrapped bundles of clothes, hat boxes and Michael and Toby who had fallen asleep on the drive back.

"I thought Howl's last name was Jenkins," Karen observed as the two sleepy boys helped lug their things indoors.

"This is his pseudonym, he needs to sound fancy for the upper class customers he gets through here," Sarah explained.

"Are all magic users so convoluted in their ways?"

Sophie chuckled as she shuffled passed expertly balancing three hatboxes.

"They like to think it makes them mysterious instead of crazy. We leave them their illusions."

"Hey!" Sarah realised the insult just as Sophie stepped indoors.

"Tell me that you're not doing the same thing, Queen of the Labyrinth."

Sarah rolled her eyes, then relieved her of the hat boxes and helped her up the stairs.

"Sophie!" Calcifer perked up. "Howl looked in here half an hour ago, they need you back at the cottage."

"I thought we were back at the cottage," Karen gestured to the room.

"Oh no," Michael laughed and turned the dial. "This is Howl's castle. Here, this is the cottage."

"But this is America." Karen said.

"He said to enter through the yard door!" Calcifer called.

"There we have it," Sophie waved them all out, parcels and all, and they trooped around the side of the house and up onto the broad veranda that was the kitchen garden.

The red back door was open and beside it in his usual grey trousers and loose silk shirt, the Goblin King waited, watching the skies with a distant expression in his eyes. Sarah could only smile in response to the way his whole face lit up at seeing her. Robert hurried out past them and took half of Karen's parcels and waved them all inside.

Their baggage was set on a low bench by the door and they filed in. Sarah hung back for a quick kiss.

"How did it go?" she asked nervously.

Jareth's face wrinkled into that happy mischievous smile that always set the butterflies dancing in her stomach.

"Wonderfully," he purred, "he loves the throne room." He cleared his throat and his eyes darted to the door. He whispered in her ear. "You're going to have to disengage your bedroom from my own; I had to cast an illusion of a fine chamber, while Howl distracted him. We were both sweating buckets for fear that he'd noticed."

Sarah gulped.

"We'll do that as soon as we get out of this," she cringed just imagining how badly that could have gone.

He gave a chuckle and slung an arm around her shoulders to draw her indoors.

It was very tiny. Most of the cottage was the large open room with a desk for studying and a preparation table against the wall facing the kitchen garden. The two small rooms off it held the tiny restroom and equally tiny bedroom.

Michael and Toby were inspecting the inside of the refrigerator while Karen and Sophie were telling Howl that the place needed a sitting room chair and curtains.

The wizard held up his hands.

"I know, but I thought the owner would like the chance to decorate." He reached over and closed the fridge door on the boys who now had a soda each. He then waved at Robert who approached him with a folder of papers. He took it and found one as silence settled in the room. He presented it to Sarah.

"Sarah Williams, on the occasion of officially accepting you as my apprentice, Your father, Jareth and I present you with this cottage as your own so that you might have a sanctuary where you can study and practice your magic."

Sarah took the paper, it was the title deed of the property, in her name. She couldn't find words. She gaped at Howl, then glanced at her father who nodded with a proud smile. She leaned into Jareth's side and mouthed 'thank you' as her voice seemed lost.

"Sarah gets a house?" Toby exclaimed in awe.

"It comes with several responsibilities, not in the least the maintenance of the castle doorway and the boundaries that link this plain with the Goblin Kingdom."

Sarah nodded, still overcome.

"Thank you!"

Howl smiled, then grimaced and handed over the thick file. "These are the forms you need to fill out for America, Ingary and the Goblin Kingdom."

Sarah gaped at the huge pile in dismay. There were notes in languages she could not read.

"This is going to take all night," she predicted.

"Two to three hours of solid work," Jareth said professionally eyeing the pile. "Four if we don't have the necessary information."

Sarah sighed.

"Let's go back home," Karen suggested. "That way I can ply everyone with food and drink when tempers start to fray. You can use the living room table, it should have enough room."


	27. Chapter 27

She filled out everything in English first, the marriage forms and various pages she had to sign for the house to be registered in her name. Then they called Karen and Robert and they both sat as Howl read aloud his copy of the Betrothal Contract. Sarah sat beside Jareth watching as he trailed his fingers along his copy in High Elvish, as it had all the circular cursive letters. It was a fairly simple document, stating what both parties brought to the marriage. Her bride price was a three part gift, One part to her father in the form of a cash payment, one part to her future in the form of the house and a trust fund for her future college studies, and the last to her, the gift of the land of the Labyrinth and the duties to its peoples.

Sarah choked at that.

"You're giving me… Jareth,' she frowned at him, "you're the Goblin King, I cannot do the duties you're responsible for."

"I have relinquished no power or duty to you,' he reassured her, "only the land and duties to its citizens, it will take years, but you will learn the governance and magic's required. I will walk with you every step of the way, you know my nature, I do not relinquish power unless there is a significant return to be gained thereby. Your talent at magic will see it flourish like never before."

She nervously fidgeted with her hair then nodded and signed the corresponding line on Jareth's document. They discussed the rest of the document, property she would call her own, that which Jareth would call his, and the division of responsibilities in the rule of the Goblin Kingdom. It even listed a monthly allowance for private use, and a separate amount for the Labyrinth. Howl had been fastidious, or had received help from a lawyer, probably the latter if she knew anything of Howl's personality. The final section dealt with heirs.

"So, Toby will be your heir until our children are twenty years of age, and should both of us perish childless before then, you're appointing Howl as regent until Toby is twenty one years, and Court Wizard until he is thirty."

Jareth nodded.

"Has anyone asked Toby?" Sarah said faintly.

"Your father and I discussed the entailment and line of inheritance with him."

"Jareth," she whispered, "I can defend myself to a certain extent, but Toby is just a kid. Won't those after your kingdom try get to you through him?"

"No one but the King of Ingary and the Goblins need know, and I will place a very delicate spell over the truth until Toby is of age. It's a standard practice for underage heirs, including using body doubles for more risky public appearances."

She leaned against his arm and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you."

They reached the end of the document and Jareth signed with a flourish so beautiful, her own signature looked like chicken scratches beside it. Her father, Howl and Karen all signed witness at the bottom. At least Karen had as plain a signature as herself,

There were several other pages, also in High Elvish, which were documents to be signed after the Wedding Ceremony. Howl read these through so she knew what they said, but they were simply formal wedding vows and the statement that they both had entered the marriage freely.

.

Karen herded them to the kitchen shortly afterwards and they all crowded about the table to discuss the wedding over a supper.

"Sunday morning at nine, at Sarah's cottage, it is neutral territory," Jareth volunteered as they had discussed who they wanted as witness and the pros and cons of every place, including Howl's castle in Ingary, which everyone vetoed because it was too small.

"As land of all three realms, not a bad idea."

Jareth inspected the guest list they had come up with and grimaced.

"Add Eltharion te' Meurfinan to the guest list and we're done."

"Who is he?" Howl asked as he wrote in the name.

"My father," Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Have you no other family you wish to invite?" Sophie asked gently.

"As every one of my half dozen half brothers have tried to kill me over the past years I'm not inclined to, so no."

The shocked silence as interrupted by a snore from under the table. Sarah ducked under to find Toby leaning against the table leg, asleep.

The meeting broke up after that.

.

Sarah dragged Jareth upstairs after her.

"So eager, precious thing," he purred in her ear as they stepped into her bedroom.

She groaned and hugged him, burying her face in his side.

"I still can't get over the fact that you're upending your entire life to protect Toby and I."

He ran his fingers down her hair.

"I will always protect you, precious thing, always."

She tilted her head to look up at him.

"Jareth, from the bottom of my heart and on behalf of my family who probably don't know how much more political difficulty this will bring you, thank you."

He gave her a bright grin as mischief sparked in his eyes. She loved how happy he looked just then, it spilled out of him in delight and joy.

"As inconvenient as it may become, it's going to be very entertaining. I'm in the mood for some tricky arguments and I am sure the bootlickers in my father's court will swarm the castle over the next few months."

"Are they anything like the High King's nephew?"

"Oh, he's harmless, officious and prejudiced, but harmless. Others, not so much, it'll be good!" He did a little dance right there in her arms and Sarah could only laugh at his anticipation.

"Sarah, Jareth, we're shutting off the lights, don't disturb Toby when you leave," her father called from atop the stairs.

"Okay," Sarah leaned out the door and waved to him.

She closed her bedroom door and leaned against it.

"So how do we disengage my room from the castle?" she asked, staring around overwhelmed, Howl hadn't given any explanation on how to direct her magic.

Jareth slipped around to stand against the door with her back to his chest. He slipped his hands under hers and clasped them together before them.

"What is it that you want done?"

All Sarah could think of was how he hugged her.

"Er," she felt her cheeks flush red.

"Focus, precious thing," he chuckled in her ear, which didn't help anything.

He whispered and wriggled and poked her and she ended up dissolving in giggles, unable to speak.

"Ja-" she gasped, "-reth! I'm- " she giggled as he put his cheek against hers, "-trying to concentrate!" She sagged back into him shaking with silent laughter as he proceeded to trail kisses down her jaw.

It was only as she wriggled free of him and kept him at bay with her bed pillow that she managed to calm her laughter enough to think straight.

"What words do I need to use?"

She shoved her pillow in his spread arms as he approached, then collapsed on her bed in a fresh fit of giggles as he hugged it and crooned to it as if it were her.

"A calm mind helps," he told the pillow, holding it as if it were a child, "and a clear visualisation of what you want done. If you seek to borrow my power, and that is recommended as the Castle is my domain, use the words 'I wish" and my name or title in the request." He plumped the pillow as if jiggling a baby. "Let's hear your request!"

Sarah sat up feeling exceedingly jealous of a pillow and quite ridiculous for all that. That smile of calm delight he offered the pillow was hers! Jealousy turned out to be the antidote to her giggles, She returned to his side and he absently tucked an arm around her, but still continued to address the pillow.

"You're awfully quiet, perhaps a kiss would help?"

She gave an indignant squawk when he planted one on the top of the pillow.

"I wish the Goblin King would pay me attention right now."

Jareth dropped the pillow and gathered her up in his arms with a groan.

"Urg, nothing kills romance like being forced into it," he rested his forehead against the top of her head. His face was pale with as though ill.

"Sorry!" she whispered. "I wish Jareth the Goblin King released from all geas and commands."

Jareth swayed in her arms and sank to his knees.

"Jareth!" she yelped and collapsed onto the pillow beside him.

He sagged against her, sparking magic and that strange violet light flickered about them.

"Jareth!" she caught him as he collapsed bonelessly against her, unconscious.

"Sarah, we asked you not to wake Toby," her father put his head in at the door.

All about her the doors that linked her room to the Labyrinth glowed with the same eerie purple fire that wasn't really fire.

"Dad!" She clung to Jareth, terrified. "Dad, call Howl!"

He stood frozen at the door, gawking at the flagrant display of magic.

"Is this his doing?" he growled.

"Dad! I don't know anything of magic and I need Howl here now!" Sarah panicked. "Karen knows how to find his house! Get her to take you! Hurry!" Her voice broke on the last word and her father fled.

There was a patter of footfalls on the landing and Karen put her head in, gave a dignified gasp and pelted back along to her room. A moment later there were the thumps of people descending the stairs.

"Jareth!" Sarah panted as the fire seemed to stabilise, but not nearly enough. She could see it slowly creep outwards as it began to consume her bedroom walls.

"Howl, you'd better hurry!"


	28. Chapter 28

Five minutes later, the door slammed open and were four thuds on the stairs and Howl flung himself to a stop outside her room. He peeked in cautiously, then bit off sulphurous swear words under his breath.

"How long has this been happening?"

"Not more than ten minutes?" Sarah had watched her bedside clock count minutes as if each measured an age of the world. "Howl, what's wrong?"

"This is what those dastardly fae do when they suck the essence of another dimension into theirs." Behind him, Sophie put her head in along with Michael, Karen and her father. Toby appeared a few moments later, trailing a blanket.

"He's not doing it consciously," Sarah said stiffly. "He passed out and this happened."

Howl nodded.

"Then he was being honest about controlling the doorways, but why is it that when we agreed to one, I see three?"

She glanced at her room and blushed.

"That's my fault," she mumbled.

"Can you close them?"

"Can you help me move Jareth, he's too heavy to lift and I don't know how safe it is for me to do magic when he's like this."

Howl pulled off his harlequin coat and used it as a buffer between himself and Jareth, and with Sarah's help lifted the Goblin King across his shoulders and staggered out of the room.

"Second time in a week, Goblin King," Howl complained as he stumped downstairs with Sophie and Toby trailing after him. He deposited Jareth onto the couch and left Sophie to see if she could do anything to wake him, then ran back to Sarah's room.

Sarah was standing in the centre of her room trying to visualise her room as it was, but the castle would simply not disengage. She gave a short scream of frustration and stamped her foot.

"Uh, uh," Howl called softly and landed his hands on her shoulders. She abruptly burst into tears.

"It's not working! It's getting bigger! I can't do it!"

"Some help?" Howl pleaded with Karen and she came over and awkwardly patted Sarah on the shoulder.

"I don't know how to reverse these sorts of spells, fae magic is not my area of expertise," Howl admitted. "I can limit it, and prevent its progress. Sarah, may I bring three cold iron horseshoes into your room?"

Sarah shuddered. The very idea of them made her ill. It jerked her out of her crying jag. She wiped her eyes.

"Only if you promise to remove them when Jareth recovers and that you never approach this house with them unless the need is dire."

Howl didn't answer her.

"Howl," she said dangerously.

"I cannot promise, I am responsible for you, and should you make poor choices will be forced by ancient treaty to use them."

"She is my daughter," Robert said, striding into the room. "I shall help you hang these horse shoes and I will take them down at her request, this is my house and I will not see you override my daughter's wishes."

"As you say," Howl said with an edge to his voice, then folded his arms across his chest. "Sarah, as my apprentice–"

"I understand; you have oaths that bind you. Get them, please."

.

Sarah didn't dare leave her room until Howl returned. She shivered as he stepped in. Something was starkly wrong with the horseshoes; Howl had definitely done something. The tiny sigils etched onto them blazed with blue fire as he took a hammer and nailed each into the wall above the opening. Sarah felt ice crawl over her skin as the purple fire shrunk down to the size of the original door. Howl stepped back and turned to her.

"You're needed downstairs," he said and strode out, tucking the bag of nails into his pocket and swinging the hammer like he would very much like to use it on her head.

Sarah trailed out feeling all of five years old. She knew she was in trouble, but how much remained to be seen.

Everyone gathered in the living room. Jareth, wrapped in Howl's coat, shivered on the couch, the pale purple fire flickering all over him.

"Can you wake him?" Howl asked, resigned.

Sarah shook her head miserably; she had been trying all she could before he arrived.

"That purple fire you see," Howl pointed, "isn't fire. It's his entire being bending this reality to his will; leeching out its essence if you will. If he keeps it up, all memory and dreams will be taken from those nearby, time and space will distort and you might find yourself walking away from him into tomorrow or three days in the past. We're going to have to contain him."

"No!" Sarah launched herself at Howl and grabbed his arms. "You can't! Iron will hurt him badly!"

"I said contain, not imprison. I owe him and would not willingly see him harmed," Howl told her gently. "As he cannot help his nature, we're going to have to do what we can to limit the damage. Do you own a car, Robert?" Howl asked.

"Er, yes? What does that have to do with it?" Robert asked cautiously.

"It'll be easier to transport him that way. We're going to take him to Sarah's cottage, the back yard has wards set about it which should help considerably. Sarah, you and I will ride with him, Robert if you'd drive? Sophie, could you see that everyone else gets there?"

The old woman nodded and Howl took a sharp breath and then handed the hammer and nails to Michael before lifting Jareth onto his shoulders again with a grunt.

.

Sarah ended up in the back seat with Jareth's head on her lap. She leaned over and stroked his hair out of his eyes. She poked his cheek then wiped it as a tear splashed on his face.

"Wake up, please," she whispered. "I wish the Goblin King would wake up," she felt even sicker when the purple fire flickered at that but nothing happened.

Her father and Howl lugged him like a sack of potatoes around to the garden at the back. Sarah ran for the house, snatched the quilt off her bed and sprinted back out. She laid it out on the grass and they settled him on top of it.

"Stay here," Howl straightened and rolled his shoulders to relieve the stiffness, "I'll need you to judge how close I can approach with the iron so I know where to place it."

Sarah shivered miserably.

Her father crouched down at Jareth's feet and stared as she sat stroking the fae's blond hair.

"Sarah," he said quietly, "the way you and Howl are acting, this is a very dangerous thing."

"It is. This was Howl's chief concern about Jareth, actually. It's my fault, as usual."

"That's enough," he interrupted any self-incriminatory misery, "what was Howl's concern?"

"It's what the fae were banished for, this ability of theirs to use other dimensions, or aspects of them to accrue more power. I'm allowed to open doorways, but only if I close them after myself. Jareth was teaching me how. I messed up and now I can't fix it." She slumped. "The last time I made him so ill he was in bed for two days!"

"Is that where you were?" Robert asked sharply. "Nursing him back to health?"

Sarah nodded, feeling even worse. Jareth, she knew, hadn't truly recovered from her first mishap. Perhaps it would be better if she wasn't around him at all.

"Tell us the truth next time," Robert said tiredly. "We may not be able to help with the fallout of magical mistakes, but we do like to know where you are and if you're well. Jareth too, now that he is to become my son in law."

Sarah couldn't speak, and sat there blinking back tears as she nodded her thanks.

Howl returned with Sophie and Karen. Toby and Michael both carried sleeping bags and Karen pointed to the edge of the broad kitchen garden veranda. They very reluctantly set up their beds beside the stairs and lay on top of the sleeping bags to watch. Howl set the crate down at the edge of the wards.

"Sarah," he called, "I will approach with one piece at a time. Tell me when I get too close."

She nodded and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

She shivered the moment he crossed the wards to the back yard and waited until he was perhaps five feet away and she could feel the discomfort from the cold the etched metal radiated and held up her hand. Howl placed it on the grass and it glowed a faint blue. He repeated the act until twenty seven pieces glowed in a wide circle around them. Robert stood and waved his hands through the air then walked over and examined one of them.

"Are these safe to touch?"  
"They won't do anything to a human," Howl said absently as he walked around the outer perimeter inspecting each piece of iron, some were large nails that looked like railway pegs, others were horseshoes, and still others a miscellany of objects, old irons, a poker, weights from a scale, and they all glowed with the peculiar sigils etched onto them.

"What do they do to fae?"

"Drain their magic," Howl said absently, "or more truly, limit their use of their ability to access two plains simultaneously." He finished his circuit as Sophie and Karen seated themselves on the steps to watch the proceedings. Robert stood just outside the circle as Howl stepped within and approached them. He sat down on the edge of the quilt.

"Now that it's contained as best as we can for the moment, tell me what happened. Every word."

Sarah straightened her back and began her retelling. She was getting better at that sort of thing, as Howl seemed to expect it of her in any magic she managed to perform.


	29. Chapter 29

"You released him from all geas binding him," Howl slumped with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "Sarah Williams," he groaned and slid his fingers through his black hair to fist it there. He gave a quiet yet very frustrated grunt. He sat up straight suddenly and thumped the ground with both hands.

"This is why we train apprentices, only I'm going to insist you read fae lore, fae history and the four doorway wars as from Ingary perspective so that you know what twisted fate you're tempting here. For this alone I could ask and have granted Jareth's execution."

"You wouldn't dare!" Sarah leaped to her feet, and felt the magic around her rise.

"No!" Howl snapped at her. "I don't want to! Don't force my hand by adding your own uncontrolled insanity to all this!"

Sarah stood panting as the magic crackled about her; the purple fire seemed to burn brighter about Jareth. As she forced herself to breathe calmly, the fire burned down.

"Sit down, Sarah," Howl said calmly. "I am trying to help you."

She sat once more, her hands still shaking

"Sarah," Howl said gently, "the only other wizards I know are human and would prefer to bind or kill Jareth rather than helping him. Do you know any fae mages who would be able to settle this uncontrolled outpouring of magic he has about him?"

Sarah thought frantically. She didn't know any fae mages, and the elf she had met the other day was a negotiator not a magician. She felt a pool of dread settle on the bottom of her stomach.

"I know one," she said in a small voice.

Howl breathed out in relief.

"Do you know his or her name so we may summon them?"

Sarah blanched.

"You want to summon the High King?"

"How do you know the High King?" Howl's voice squeaked with shock. He cleared his throat harshly and he gaped at Sarah in dismay. "Why is everything always so difficult with you?"

"I blame Jareth," Sarah said squarely.

Howl gave a tired snort of laughter at that.

"There are two of you in this deal," he reminded her. "How are we to negotiate with the High King? What is the Goblin Kingdom's policy in regards to him? What I mean is how big a boon are we going to end up owing a potentially capricious fae?"  
Sarah folded her arms under her breasts and tilted her head.

"No boon at all!" Sarah declared vehemently. "If he so much as thinks to use this to his advantage I'll kick his ass across the Abyss! If he can't do one thing right by his son, then I'll find a way to usurp his entire kingdom and make him sincerely regret it."

"His son?" Howl croaked and rubbed his eyes tiredly with the ball of his palm. "Suddenly this is all beginning to make so much sense."

"What is?"

"The sheer magnitude of this mess," Howl said dryly. "Well, go ahead. You might want to step outside the circle to do so."

.

Sarah stood between the house and the circle. Howl remained seated beside Jareth, but turned as she came to a halt.

"Michael, see everyone has a horse shoe," Howl called.

Sarah was rather relieved when Michael dragged the crate over to her house. The cold it radiated made her bones ache unpleasantly. She wondered how her family could stand it. Toby took one and dropped it with a yelp. He eyed the harsh red burn on his hand for a second and burst into tears.

"I never thought of that," Howl sprang up and ran across to Toby who had his mother and Sophie trying to inspect the burn on his hand. "Stand back," he ordered and grasped Toby's wrist in his and with a gesture trailed his fingers through the air above it. His eyes sharp with concentration. Toby gave a stunned gasp and stopped crying.

"It's gone?" He clenched and unclenched his hand gingerly then smiled.

"You're coming to sit with me within the circle," Howl declared. "As fae touched, you and Sarah shouldn't touch ensorcelled iron."

"But I can touch the poker," Toby said in bewilderment as he trailed after Howl.

"It's regular iron; it'd hurt but not disable a fae. This," he pulled Toby carefully in between two glowing pieces, "is spelled to do just that. Don't touch."

"Now you tell me?" Toby snapped.

"Your pardon?" Howl said with mild politeness and Toby smiled up at him with wide-eyed innocence.

"Tobias," Karen warned.

"Sorry," Toby muttered hastily and plumped himself down beside Howl's spot on the quilt.

.

Sarah fidgeted and then took a deep breath when Howl nodded he was ready. She closed her eyes, picturing somewhat the elf she had met, the High King's nephew, and the image merged with Jareth's features somewhat. What were the right words? She could feel them sometimes; what would work in a situation and what would not. All she sensed now was that it needed to be very grand, and elaborate and formal. All the words she ever had in her head left right then. She sat feeling the magic build around her with no focus.

"I wish for Eltharion te' Meurfinan, High King of the Fae to come here right now!"

If she thought Jareth was flashy with his thunderous entrances and glittery exits she was mistaken. The entire back yard glowed with a soft power and every sigil and ward sign blazed like the sun. Before her in a pool of sunlight, with lazily falling motes of golden magic, stood the most beautiful elf she had ever set eyes on. He was as tall as Jareth and had wild blond hair that hung midway down his back. He wore a golden robe trimmed with shimmering emerald stones and the shapes of oak leaves stitched into the hems and cuffs of his garment. A gold link belt was slung about his waist over a pale green silk tunic and hose. About his neck he wore a pendant in the shape of a sun, and instead of a crown he wore antlers set in gold which stretched back and over his head. His eyes were a chilling blue that Jareth's gained when he was angry.

"Er, hi!" Sarah smiled at him.

His gaze darkened. She could feel the force of his magic hot and ferocious against her being like the midday sun in a desert.

"Who are you, impudent mortal, that you have my name to summon me like a common imp?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Your Majesty," she dipped a slight curtsey. "I'm Sarah Williams, I called you here because Jareth's in trouble."

His face froze in the middle of a triumphant sneer, and oddly, the heat of his magic lessened slightly.

"Sarah Williams," he spoke the name with relish and she felt it catch at her very being, yet somehow slip off her. She felt as though ice froze her heart for a moment, had he actually managed to grasp her, she would have fallen utterly into his power.

"What does the mortal Sarah Williams have to do with my bastard son?"

She glared up at him, suddenly furious. He was tall, slender and she could see where Jareth had inherited his cheekbones and eyes. Yet they had none of the slightly blunted nature that made Jareth's face pleasantly handsome to behold, his was sharp, almost cruel with the expression he now wore.

"You don't have to be rude!"

"Rude? I think not, little mortal girl, you are the one who has summarily demanded my presence forgoing all common courtesy and decorum."

"Look, Your Majesty, I'm not here to play games with you, we can do it another time. Jareth's your son, so you'd know how his magic works, yes?"

"And I weary of your senseless prattle. Sarah Williams, tell me the purpose of this summoning!"

Sarah felt the magic in the command and before she could stop herself had gabbled it all out.

"I lifted all the geas Jareth had on him and his magic went haywire and you're the only fae who might have any hope of helping him, please!"

She clapped both hands over her mouth and gaped at him in shock.

He blinked right back at her, hiding his own surprise with a very familiar raised eyebrow. His magic fluctuated from blazing hot to a refreshing warmth.

"Only his true love could possibly manage that."

Sarah blushed bright red, buried her face in her hand and groaned in utter mortification. Had Jareth been under that sort of spell? It was too embarrassing for words.

"Whoo hoo!" Toby whooped from behind them.

Eltharion spun about with the blinding speed of a trained warrior. He had his sword in hand and dagger in the other, held by the tip as if he meant to throw it. She could feel his magic flicker like Jareth's did, all sparks and lightning, there was no doubt they were related.

"No!" She darted around him and spread out her arms as she stood before him. "Please don't hurt them! They've all been helping me help Jareth."

Eltharion wore a haughty aloof expression as he assessed them.

"A very mixed group of mortal humans." He sheathed the dagger again and lowered his sword. "Three taste of fire demon magic, two under the protection of the same, one who has the taste of my son's protection and you," he turned his attention to Sarah again. "You have the taste of the trial magic's my son so easily weaves."

He suddenly sheathed his sword and stepped backwards to examine her.

"You're the Queen of the Labyrinth?"

"Er yes?" Sarah said guiltily, remembering the letter.

"You sent that little yellow scrap of a note," he suddenly focused all his attention on her and she cringed, but held her head high.

"Yes," she said, "In all fairness, your trade negotiator was being high handed and disrespectful."

"Oh, of that I have no doubt, it's why I send him, Jareth usually blunts the edges off his personality enough that we can tolerate him at court for the next few months."

Sarah blinked. His magic was warm and inviting now. What had changed? If anything she was more wary now than she had been when facing his anger.


	30. Chapter 30

Eltharion's magic reminded her of a gentle summers day, comforting and restful.

"Um, Your Majesty, I was hoping you could help Jareth?" Sarah suggested, trying to focus despite feeling wonderfully lethargic, only he didn't take the hint.

He reached out and held his right hand just to the left of her head.

"How remarkable," he said and dropped his hand to his side.

"What is?" Sarah asked and the High King just smirked at her in the exact same frustratingly knowing manner that Jareth did when he had something on her.

"Ugh, you are totally his father," she shuddered to herself.

He chuckled at that.

"You've summoned me, unrestricted, save for the iron wards which I see are for the protection of those behind them. I've not had such free access to this plain in centuries, why should I stay here and do your petty bidding?"

"I had thought you would have a modicum of fatherly concern for your son, am I wrong?" Sarah said with an edge to her tone.

"You wish for me to assist by the goodness of my heart?" he sounded incredulous.

"No, for the debt you owe your son in not raising him as your own."

She flinched back as Eltharion rounded on her, his eyes blazing and his magic whipping up like a firestorm around him.

"You accuse me of neglect?"

"You deny it?"

He glowered at her, his magic flaring in such fits and starts she expected to see it sparking any second.

"I did not know of him until he was of age and a troubadour in my own court!"

Sarah bit her tongue on the response that he'd clearly slept with Jareth's mother, as that would probably open a worse can of worms.

"Then for the years of his youth stolen from you, take care of him now. We do not know anything of fae magic, please show me how it is done to help one of your own."

"This is a personal request from you?"

"No, the payment is as stated."

"So dreary and formal," he circled her with a predatory smile.

"Wow," Sarah drawled, utterly unimpressed, "the apple does not fall far from the tree. You aren't going to wheedle anything else out of me, and that tactic doesn't work. Jareth's overused it."

He stopped in his prowl and stared down at her, then threw his head back and chortled with laughter.

"My son has found both his true love and his match," he grinned at her. "Not many can withstand the wiles of my line. Those we find we keep close and precious to us."

Sarah eyed him, supremely indifferent. Why were fae men such egotistical morons when it came to women?

"You are quite determined to make such a dull trade? Have you no requests for advancement in my court, or perhaps for Jareth's own future?"

"That's for Jareth to negotiate if he so wishes, I have stated my request."

"I see why he likes you, mortal girl." He leaned over and the scent of warm summer gardens wafted over her, dizzying her senses in wonder for a moment. His breath was hot against her ear as he whispered.

"What of the Goblin Kingdom? Would you not see it recognised among the great kingdoms?"

"We're not under your over watch, Your Majesty," Sarah reminded him coolly, "and I dislike the disorientating and coercion spells you're weaving." She waved her hand at the wonderfully warm floating golden magic all around her as if they were pesky spider webs.

He drew back thoughtfully.

"You are very closely protected, and the true love protects you from any advance other than that of your lovers. It would be a shame to try and break that. I had heard rumours of a girl who could challenge my son at full strength and walk away, that would not perhaps be you, now would it?"

"What do you think?" Sarah asked blandly. "I ask a third time, but remain polite and do not use it as a binding, will you quit prevaricating and please help your son!"

"You think to order me?"

Sarah groaned.

"I think to remind a slippery fey who thinks this is all a bloody game that his son is hurt and needs his help. We can play games later so you can save face in front of court when you relate all the little tales about us. But now, please, help Jareth!"

He straightened and brought his hand up to his mouth, his lips about his forefinger as he regarded her in a rare moment of personal rather than kingly contemplation. He looked so much like Jareth in that instant that she felt her stomach fill with butterflies.

"You'll have to bring him without the iron ring." He gestured to the grass some distance away.

.

Sarah thought for a moment then waved at her father.

"Dad, put that horse shoe in your pocket and help me carry Jareth, please."

She lifted him by his ankles as her father carried him under the arms. Howl tossed the balled up blanket directly at the spot near Eltharion and it spread out and landed on the grass ready for them when they arrived. Sarah waited until her father had set Jareth down and returned to his seat beside Karen before turning to the High King.

"This is his mother's magic," Eltharion crouched down beside her and ran his fingers through the purple flames. His own sparked blood red against it.

"She must have drawn her own geas and protections over him as a child and he grew into them as an adult. What were the words you used to release him?"

"I wish Jareth the Goblin King released from all geas and commands." Sarah repeated miserably and flinched as the purple flame flared up and around her hand as she spoke.

"You have no fear," he whispered, "and no understanding of the limits of magic."

"Yeah, I know, Howl and Jareth have both yelled in my ear over that."

"No, it is a precious thing, to come late into ones magic, and yet still keep that child like wonder that allows such magnificent outworking. Was it you who called the trees of living ore into being? Dalthuran won't stop talking about it. As it is there's a twenty name petition to be the next to visit the Goblin Kingdom to see the throne room. I usually have to resort to rigged lots."

Sarah nodded, trying to picture the High King tricking his annoying nephew into drawing the short straw.

"Why is Jareth so out of it?" she asked to refocus him on his task. He was like a puppy going after the next thing that interested him.

"Can't you feel the flow of his magic?" Eltharion asked in astonishment. "Your mortal companions were right to contain it!"

Sarah placed her hand on Jareth's chest, but didn't feel anything different. She found the High King examining her with fascination.

"You're his balance," he breathed in wonder, "to have found his true love and the balance of his magic within one person."

"Can you help him?" Sarah prompted again.

"I cannot, or I will, as you so elegantly put it, place him under my over watch. I dislike what the political fallout of that will be, not to mention the personal should he decide to recruit you against me. I will give you the sentiment of the geas, but you must speak them."

Sarah nodded, feeling a little better then. She could probably undo them if Jareth didn't like them.

"The first is to reclaim all his territory, a King is oath bound to his land and people."

Sarah thought for a moment, and found the Labyrinth book supplied her with the formula. She placed a hand on Jareth's forehead.

"Through all the days of your life and to those of your heirs, take the lands granted to you by birth, conquest and gift, and rule them as a fair and wise king. For you were granted the power, wit and wisdom to manage them and none unworthy shall ever take them from you."

Sarah shuddered as she felt a tingle of power pool under her feet and tingle up all over her. She turned to the High King who was pale, and had his jaw open.

"A geas," he croaked, "I said a geas, not a blessing."

"What's a geas then?"

"A binding obligation or prohibition," he said hopelessly as Sarah firmly shook her head.

"His magic calmed down at that, see? I'm not doing anything else to muck it up."

"You live with three magic users, have none of them taught you anything?"

"I've learned my herb lore and basic spell focus!" Sarah protested. "I've only been at it the past few weeks!"

Eltharion gaped at her then began to laugh weakly.

"Try for a geas with a binding and a consequence this time," he said, though without much hope that she would get it right. "The second is his responsibility towards magic and its use."

"From the first spark through the growth and first flowering your gift was a saving grace, at its second flowering, it elucidated, and each successive growth and bloom, you have grown in strength, perception and power and wisdom. May it continue to grow as you teach, uplift and challenge others, while being strong enough to serve you in your numerous duties and to protect those lands over which you reign."

"A geas goes like this: a listed condition, or series of conditions, and then the consequence of violating that condition," Eltharion exclaimed exasperated.

"Why ever would I want to limit him?" Sarah asked in surprise.

The High King sat down hard on the grass beside her and gaped at her.

"You are not envious of his power?"

"No! It's amazing. I'm not much good at magic, but watching him wield it," she smiled dreamily then grimaced. "He can be petty at times, but he has no power over me. I can stamp down the weeds to watch the sunflowers."

"I should have snatched you away before he awoke." Eltharion sighed wistfully.

Sarah glanced down to find Jareth blinking dazedly up at them.

"Father?" He raised a hand and rubbed his eyes then lowered his hand to check. The High King still sat in his golden robe and antlered crown beside him.

The next moment there was a flash of glitter and Sarah found herself in his arms some five feet away at the end of the quilt. Jareth twitchily took in the scene about him and then gave a hefty sigh.

"This has Sarah all over it, wizard, please tell me you at least tried to gainsay her?"

"Not this time," Howl replied calmly.

Jareth hugged her tightly to his side and faced his father with a slight bow.

"Father."

The High King stood, the gold robe flowing around him in that summer breeze that seemed to accompany his magic.

"You have found a remarkable woman, both your true love and your balance. I would not risk the stability of the plains to take her from you," he said as a gesture of peace.

Jareth let rip a feral snarl and Sarah found herself bundled behind him.

"Peace. Your woman has granted me a moment of time for banter and games so that I may return to my court with tales of wit and intrigue so as not to shame someone of my station for being so unceremoniously summoned."

Jareth ducked around to look at her.

"You _summoned_ my father?"

"Your magic went all weird when I lifted all the geas and commands off you," Sarah mumbled, not looking at him. "Sorry if he's the only magical fae we knew!"

Jareth gaped at her incredulously then slumped.

"Only you, Sarah, only you," he breathed, then he leaned over and kissed her bowed head. "I felt the words you said sink into my very being, thank you."

"I love you," she whispered back.


	31. Chapter 31

Sarah stood comfortably in Jareth's embrace. He hummed his happiness against her neck then straightened.

"So, shall we give my father the greeting and welcome his station requires?"

"Oh yes, and tell him he's invited to the wedding on Sunday!" Sarah perked up.

"Wedding?" Eltharion crossed over to them. "What wedding would this be?"

"Ours!" Sarah grinned at him and felt Jareth stiffen at her side as his father shot him a fierce blue-eyed stare.

"You would wed without the customary traditions of our people?" he snapped frostily at Jareth.

"I at least choose to honour her," Jareth said with stiff indifference.

"I would have thought that my misfortune with your mother had steered you onto a more conservative path. It has always done so until now, you've refused the most beautiful courtesans of my court over less."

"You assumed my mother the cause?" he looked away with feigned boredom. "You should have looked to the quality of the women, many could not abide the goblins and those who could, did not pass my labyrinth."

"You put them through trials without cause?" the High King tilted his head back and glowered at Jareth down his nose. Sarah wondered if he used magic to situate his crown, as the antlers remained fixed as if they grew from his head.

"Without cause? You wound me father, did you not check the beauty of their minds along with their physical aspects? Or do you forget that I see dreams as clearly as most see life?"

The High King tilted his head sideways and Sarah marvelled, the antlers truly were stuck very firmly.

"You were always the most skilled illusionist to perform before my courts, I had not accounted that a latent dreamers talent. Is your mother of the muses?"

Jareth gave a disgusted snort.

"One would think, father, that you would know, considering how a child comes to be in the world."

The High King sneered in retort.

"Your magic is the shades of fire found only among the denizens of the darkest Abyss, but I would never have found companionship among them. You sing and move with the grace of the Muses. You have a rotten attitude, but I suppose that is my doing, all our line has it. You have magic, and a permanent link with the mortal plains like no other fae ever would dare. It is as if you walk between both worlds…" the expression on the High King's face went from disdainful to pasty white dread in a slow dripping second. "No," he whispered and the magic flared around him like the roar of a raging forest fire. His eyes were cold and furious. His dismay turned to anger and Sarah shuddered at the stark terror in his face, as if he were one about to face the executioner.

"Speak!" Jareth cried out in urgency and great frustration. "If you know my mother, I implore you for both of our sakes to speak!"

About them the blue sigils on the iron flared so brightly they lit up the yard and turned the night to daylight.

"He cannot, my son," a soft gentle voice, like the release of the last leaf of autumn drifted around them and the sigils on the fence lit up blazing the ward signs for all to see.

Sarah and Jareth whipped around. Sarah could not see anything, but Jareth fixed on a single place, some twenty feet away in the middle of the empty grass of the yard.

She could feel Jareth trembling in her grasp and tightened her arms.

"He sought to seduce me and order me to his will, but he, as many before him failed. Yet, he alone, of all my many desperate suitors left me with child and escaped with his life."

A cool breath of wind settled the High King's tempestuous magic and the sigils on the fence grew dim once more.

"Mother?" Jareth's voice was hoarse and Sarah, being tucked so close to him, could hear his heart jump and stutter at his unvoiced fears.

"My son," the soft voice sounded like the dying note of an achingly beautiful song. "I cannot linger in this mortal plain, but know you and your lady have my blessing."

"Thank you," Jareth mouthed, unable to voice the words.

"And you, Eltharion," there was dire warning amid the crystal tones, "you will never have this son of mine as your heir."

The High King drew himself up, regal and powerful. Yet in that moment Sarah could see he was both enraptured with the woman she could not see and at the same time devastated.

"His inheritance is mine to grant and his lady has claimed the power to balance his. They will far outstrip the magnificence of the fae courts, yet few will see their true glory. Be thankful he deigns to have you in his life, for that was none of my choosing. Be gone from this place and leave these mortals in peace."

The High King of the fae stepped backwards as if he felt the words as a physical blow.

"Hey, King Eltharion," Sarah called, breaking the terror of the moment. "The wedding is here, at nine in the morning on Sunday, be there!"

The tall fey tilted his blond head, his antlers not shifting an inch.

"I accept the invitation, future daughter in law, son, Ma'am," with that slight bow towards the invisible lady, he vanished.

.

"Stay here," Jareth whispered fiercely and Sarah sank towards the quilt with his economical movement of sweeping her legs up from under her. The moment he stepped away she felt a ward go up around her, all sparks and fiery protection. She squinted and tried to see this invisible woman that Jareth approached, but could make out nothing in the night. Jareth came to a halt, peering upwards as if she were seated on a tall horse. He reached out as if he took a hand and as he kissed her, Sarah gasped. A slight shimmer of the form of a woman was there, as if made from starlight, her pale hair shimmered in the moonlight and it seemed her skin was the ever-shifting aspect of the night skies. It was her grace Jareth had inherited, and from the faint swirl of purple flames that for a moment allowed her horse to flicker into visibility, her magic.

The moment Jareth released her hand and stepped back, she was gone. Warmth crept back into the summer evening and the cicada chorus split the silent night as if they had never stopped. Sarah shivered, shaking off the layers of magic woven around the yard. Jareth stood alone with his arms folded around his stomach, his head bowed. Sarah ducked out from under his ward and ran across to him.

She stopped a short distance away and awkwardly rubbed at her elbow, waiting. She did not want to intrude on his private moment, by the flicker of emotions on his face; it was both joy and grief. Yet she wanted to be there for him. He dug a handkerchief from somewhere and turned so those seated by the house could not see him and dabbed at his eyes. Sarah crept closer and he reached out an arm for her.

"I'd always thought her dead," he whispered, staring up at the stars above their heads.

Sarah was full of questions, but they could wait. He was trembling harder now, and she could tell it was an effort for him to stand.

"She gave your old man quite the boot in the backside," Sarah sniggered.

He rocked with silent laughter.

"Oh, she did it beautifully, and in such a way he could only ever long for her and never be sated."

"And she gave us a blessing," Sarah whispered. He gathered her in a tight hug and buried his face in her hair. "Sorry I couldn't invite her, but I got the feeling this was one of the few times we could gain her audience."

"That we saw her at all and still live is testament to her blessing, if we were to understand it as you mortals do," he murmured as he straightened. "As I have power over transitions, she is all that is beyond my grasp."

Sarah felt a flicker of unease wash over her.

"Is she Death?"

Jareth laughed at that, a smile of cheeky delight on his face.

"No, precious thing, she is the fading dream, the lost hope, the unsung song and all that could be but is not. She lead a fae the calibre of my father, with his proud and disdainful heart, and turned his trap on him to deliver a warning to the entire race. I am proud to be her son, and the warning against the pride and pitilessness of the fae."

She gazed up at him, and saw what had never been in his eyes before. A peace, as if his soul were still water and no outer storm could assail it.

"Are," she cleared her throat as her voice caught, "are you still the Goblin King?" She fidgeted, nervous as to his response to her lifting of the geas that drove the Labyrinth and the Goblin Kingdom.

He quirked his head to the side, a little like the owl whose form he took, and smiled.

"Of course, precious thing, they are my people and I am their king. No geas bound me to the kingdom, that was my own heart and desire. Don't get me wrong, they're as irritating as any subjects can get, but they're mine, and they know it. Tell me, could you honestly ever leave the Labyrinth?"

She shook her head before her lips even shaped the 'no'.

He broke in to a slow, happy smile, the delight rising to his eyes.

"And that, precious thing, is what it is like for me."

"But, but isn't the wishing away a geas of some sort?" She couldn't let it be, the Labyrinth could not be the Labyrinth without it.

"Of a kind, but not. The right words are her prompt, not mine. I can only respond. Now that I've met my mother, she's been watching the plains for those in need of protection or testing in the manner I can deliver. As my father suspected, she is a muse of sorts."

Sarah reached up and trailed her fingers down his cheek and he leaned into her touch.

"And I thought I had a messed up family life," she said wryly.

"We make quite the pair don't we?" Jareth turned and kissed her palm. "We have an audience, precious thing," he murmured and Sarah gasped to find Toby waiting not more than a few yards away, pulling disgusted kissy faces. Karen and her father slowly approached as Michael helped Sophie across. Howl busily packed the iron pieces of the ward into its crate.

"Jareth," Toby asked when he saw that he had his attention, "does your dad really have horns?"

Jareth cracked up. He leaned on Sarah and howled with laughter as the others came to join them.

"It's his crown," Sarah explained.

"I kept waiting for it to fall off," Michael admitted.

Jareth dug out his handkerchief again and mopped his eyes.

"It's a magical construct, and as such, part of his being, so yes, it is his crown, and yes he does have horns, magical ones."

"Can you teach me how to make something like that?" Toby said in awe.

"I could, but your magic is quite different. Of everyone here, I think you saw my mother the most clearly."

"Oh yes, she had beautiful white blond hair and a dress made all of stars. Her horse tried to stay invisible, but it had a belly full of purple fire that moved whenever it shifted."

Sarah gaped at him; she had only caught hazy edges of the beautiful woman.

Jareth smiled.

"She is really pretty," Toby concluded.

"That she is," Jareth agreed. "Wizard," he turned to Howl and gave him a formal bow, "for the services rendered today and the assistance and protection of Sarah's family, I will take the matter of Toby and Sarah's magical applications out of your hands and register them myself with the King of your lands."

Howl seemed to slump with relief.

"Thank you," he said somewhat thickly, as if trying to hold back emotions at a weight among many that had been lifted from him.

Jareth simply inclined his head.

"What of the three doorways in Sarah's bedroom?" Robert asked.

Sarah groaned and Jareth glanced down at her.

"You're still having trouble with that?"

She made an indistinct noise and yawned.

"Can't I do it in the morning, I'm exhausted and my mind has run out of words."

He chuckled beside her.

"Let us tend to this and settle for the night. If we're to have a wedding at nine on Sunday, we've got our work cut out for us tomorrow."pan/p


	32. Chapter 32

Sarah started her Saturday waking up in her bed, hugging her pillow. It smelled like him. She was startled at how much she had missed Jareth's presence. He had returned to the Labyrinth the night before, grumbling about the stack of work that awaited him. Jealous of a pillow, and now jealous of his work, she was well and truly besotted and it was cloying even to her. She made a firm decision not to think of him every two seconds. Perhaps a minute or two could be Jareth free bliss, which would allow her to worry about her friend's response to a days warning for her wedding.

.

Sarah was on the phone when Sophie and Michael walked in at the front door. Sophie carried the stack of hatboxes and had such a brilliant smile of delight that she looked almost thirty years younger. Karen greeted them as Michael hurried through the house to find Toby outside the back.

"I've trimmed them all with the latest fashions, I tell you, letting me add the trimmings saved us a fortune!" Sophie said excitedly to Karen.

Sarah lost the conversation at that point as her theatre friend Amanda picked up.

"Sarah!" She exclaimed. "I tried calling earlier in the week and your stepmother was terribly grumpy about something. Wouldn't tell me or Jack where you were!"

"Yeah, I kind of wanted it quiet until I had things sorted," Sarah confessed, thankful Karen hadn't made up some excuse that would require explaining.

"Oh, and what surprise is this?" Amanda exclaimed, her tone demanding details. "We're all to meet on Monday evening, couldn't you wait until then?"

Sarah laughed.

"Well, actually, I was wondering if you'd do me a huge favour."

"Spill, you've drawn this out all week!"

"Could you phone the whole theatre group and invite them to fifteen Sunwise Avenue, tomorrow at nine?"

"Everyone? Why?" She drawled with anticipation.

"I'm getting married?" Sarah mumbled.

There was a shriek on the other end and she could hear Jack's voice in the background demanding what it was.

"It's him! I know it, it is!" Amanda crowed.

"Him?" Sarah said, astonished.

"Jareth!" Amanda declared. "Oh goodness, we're finally going to meet The Jareth! Oh, darling, everyone will be there just to see him!"

Sarah sat holding the phone in shock.

"How do you know Jareth?"

Amanda snorted.

"Sarah, darling, you mope every time you fight with him and you're a darling when you've had a good time. We had to weasel his name out of your baby brother, for Pete's sake! We had bets that you would marry him after you graduated, well, you've won me a hundred bucks! Love you, gotta get on that phone chain. See you Sunday!"

The dial tone hummed in her ear and Sarah stared at the mouthpiece. Had she been that obvious?

She then phoned her mother's private line.

"Residence of Linda Williams," a man's voice came over the mouthpiece like poured chocolate.

Sarah smiled.

"Hello Jeremy, is my mother in?"

"Sarah, honey, of course, of course! Wait but a moment; she is busy practicing her lines in the front parlour."

A while later her mother picked up the line.

"Sarah, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected call?"

"Hi mom," she said shyly.

"Hello, my love. Now tell your mother what it is, I can hear the nerves straining all the way over the telephone wires."

"I'm getting married tomorrow and I was wondering if you and Jeremy would like to come."

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line.

"It's that older man Robert was fussing about isn't it?"

"What?" Sarah exclaimed indignantly. "What has dad said?"

"Oh, he phoned a few weeks ago about you and this inappropriate boyfriend, only the more he talked the more he sounded perfect for you. Strong minded, owns his own business, wealthy, and a passion for literature and the fantastic. Good catch, even if you did have to seduce him to do it."

"Mom! I'm not pregnant!" Sarah yelped.

She then realised she had the audience of several goblins, Sophie, Karen and the UPS guy who was delivering a box at the front door. She grabbed the phone and slunk away into the living room to sit behind a pot plant among the goblins. They were at least easy to distract.

"Not? Then I congratulate you on your powers of persuasion," Linda purred.

"Mom, he likes me for me and I for him, we're in this together, neither one of us is coercing the other!"

"Ah, young love. Treasure it, my love."

Sarah banged her head lightly against the wall. Why was it all her conversations with her mother went this way?

"Jeremy and I cannot make it over unfortunately; we're right in the middle of a shoot. Be sure to expect a gift when you get back from honeymoon."

"Thanks mom."

"Oh, and let me give you some advice for the honeymoon."

Sarah hung up half an hour later, red about the ears and very tempted to sneak off to the Labyrinth to find Jareth to discover just how much of what her mother had said was true.

.

She then called her three close school friends.

"You're getting married on Sunday and you only tell me now?" Julia exclaimed in dismay. "Sarah, I'm going to have to drive out to the city to find a dress this late!"

"Oh, don't worry, you have plenty of dresses, it's a fancy dress theme, so long as it's elegant, wear it. I have something based on an eighteenth century gown and Amanda from the theatre club is coming in Italian dress from the fifteenth century."

Julia perked up at that.

"Have you called Kelsie and Tina? We can all dress to a theme. Oh, get on and call them, we've got to go into town anyway and get you a gift! Why do you always leave things to the last minute like this!" She gasped a breath then went silent. "Uh, Sarah, what is the name of the guy you are marrying?"

"Jareth," she said, not liking the trepidation in her tone.

"I knew it! I knew it! Hah, that'll teach Tina! She thought you were dreaming over Jack at the theatre, but we know he's Amanda's! Hah."

"Wait, you know Jareth?"

"No, but everyone knows you had a secret beau, I mean, who doesn't take a partner to the prom?"

"Was I really that obvious," Sarah breathed.

Julia laughed.

"Sarah, you're good at some things, but keeping secrets is not one of them. He's a bird watcher, isn't he? You've been mad for owls since he came on the scene."

Sarah groaned.

"I can't believe everyone knew!"

Julia just chortled mischievously.

"Get along and phone them quick. I'm driving over to Tina's place as soon as I hang up."

.

Sarah dumped the phone back on its stand and sank down beside Sophie at the kitchen table. She was busy making tiny little piecrusts. Karen was out in the city buying enough snacks for fifty people. Sarah did a double take, it was not her imagination, Sophie really did look younger.

"You're looking good!" she smiled at the old woman, Howl must have tried some glamour on her, only she couldn't quite see it.

"I feel young today," Sophie smiled. "All this excitement for your wedding, and to see your young fae meet his mother for the first time yesterday. It reminded me how much we have to live for!"

"I kind of kept it a secret," Sarah admitted, "my knowing Jareth, but it turns out that everyone knows! I feel like a fool, that I've only been fooling myself!"

"Sometimes that is the hardest deception to overcome," Sophie declared. "To break from what you believe to what is actually true."

Sarah nodded.

"Any luck with that curse Howl and Calcifer are under?"

Sophie poked her piecrust a little too hard and had to roll it out again.

"It's one of those problems where the solution is staring me right in the face, but I just can't see it. It's as if I'm missing a vital part of the puzzle and with that piece it will suddenly click into place."

"I will see if I can get a straight answer out of Jareth, but the last times I asked he got all cryptic. He said it is the nature of the spell not to be able to tell anyone who doesn't know about it."

"I hate spells that do that!" Sophie said vehemently.

"I can't imagine anything more irritating," Sarah agreed. "I'm glad my magic is more straight forward."

"Oh you'll learn," Sophie said almost sadly, "I've been looking at the books Howl has set aside for Michael to study and the sections that deal with spoken magic are all about tricky little twists and bindings. The fae in particular love word trickery so something that sounds one way on the surface actually means another, and as spells are intent based, they go with the intent of the caster."

"Then I'll spend my time unknotting all the tricky little spells, I hate bindings." She shuddered, thinking of the way Jareth tried not to show how he feared such things.

They had returned to more mundane topics by the time Karen arrived home.


	33. Chapter 33

Sunday morning was utter chaos. Sarah was glad Howl and Jareth both had magic, she was sure most of the decorations were Jareth's illusions at work. She met the friend her father had invited to officiate the ceremony; he was an elderly priest who helped with smaller ceremonies. He was sitting at the desk with her and her father looking over the official paperwork when Jareth walked in, dressed in the formal coat, waistcoat and breeches that perfectly matched her own garments. He and Howl had clearly gone shopping in Kingsbury.

"And this is Jareth King," Robert introduced him.

The priest blinked at Jareth then hastily rose to his feet. He walked across to him and peered up at him.

"Why is one of your kind willing to bind themselves in a mortal ceremony?"

Jareth's smile vanished and he leaned over the priest in such an intimidating manner that Sarah hurried over.

"What do you mean, 'my kind'" Jareth purred dangerously. Sarah put a hand on his stomach to get him to back off.

"You are one of the fair folk, are you not? I've worked with souls all my life, young man, and know the difference. You're not the first I've seen, but you are the first I have met wishing marriage."

"And the others of 'my kind' have left a somewhat sour taste, by your tone?" Jareth growled.

"They have been the cause of many a marital breakdown, not that mortals cannot do that all on their own, but the three I have met, unfortunately were misbehaving. I understand by your reaction that you are of a more honourable sort."

Jareth narrowed his eyes and drew himself to his full height, his magic surging around him.

"I am King Jareth te'Eltharion, son of the High King of the Fae. My father will be here attending the ceremony, please, take your complaints about his people to him. He is obliged to take audience with mortals with a grievance against his people. As for myself, I have honour greater than that of my own father. Do you think we could step back and allow our initial greeting to fall to the wayside, and meet with equanimity and honour? My wife to be, Sarah Williams, is mortal; it is for her sake and that of her family that we honour your customs." He put his arm around Sarah.

The Priest raised an apologetic hand.

"A thousand apologies, Your Majesty," he stammered out. "I accept your suggestion; let us proceed in a more civilised manner."

.

The ceremony went very smoothly for how little time they had to organise it. Jareth had even remembered rings, which she had completely forgotten about, and had put Toby in charge of them. He had Howl as his best man and the wizard looked visibly upset when High King Eltharion arrived with his wife at his side, and not wearing the antlers from the other night. The way he, Toby and Michael exchanged looks they must have had some sort of dastardly plan involving them. If Sarah hadn't met the High King previously, she wouldn't have been able to tell him from the next person on the street. He and his wife both wore gorgeous twelfth century attire, complete with wimple and hat.

Once all the vows and legal paperwork were out of the way they could mingle. Jareth had a minor argument with the priest about his name 'Jareth King' as he was registered in the mortal world and his own true name. He bluntly stopped all arguments by swearing an oath with the priest as witness that he was not seeking to trick Sarah in any way. He then spitefully dragged the priest over to his father, introduced them in a very flowery manner and left his father to deal with the mortal's complaints against the fae.

.

It was only as her father led Jareth over to meet several of his business associates that Sarah got a moment to herself. Amanda pounced on her and brought her to where she and Jack were sitting surrounded by her theatre friends.

"Oh my goodness, he's gorgeous!" she gushed. "How could you have kept such perfection from us all these years?"

Sarah glanced back at Jareth, who was looking very relaxed and happily charming all her father's associates.

"How have we not seen the King family before, his father is even better, they must have been very young when Jareth was born, they don't look a year older than thirty!"

"They're from overseas," Sarah hedged, as she watched King Eltharion listening to the priest with a frown on his face.

"Well good thing you found him. So, when is the baby due?"

Sarah spun around and stared at Tina.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh," Tina said in a small voice and waved her hand at her cheek as she blushed, "that was a touch rude of me, I assume makes and ass out of you and me. Sorry Sarah, it was just so sudden."

"Everyone thinks that, including my mother," Sarah raised a forgiving hand. "There were other reasons for the tight schedule, Howl and Jareth have some business that will take them away for a while and this was the only date everyone could make it. With how uncertain some of the deals are, we didn't know when everyone would be back in the country."

"I never thought marrying a high powered business man could be so troublesome," Amanda sighed. She had caught the bouquet and Jack had a rather strained expression on his face.

"It's never been easy, but we've recently worked through some very tricky things and it's settled into something comfortable at last."

"Are you still going to be attending theatre?" Jack asked.

"Of course, I'll also be at college in the fall, same as everyone else. I'm not going anywhere."

"Wow, that's tough, newlywed and your man just goes off."

Sarah simply stared at Tina, unable to explain the complications of being able to walk through a doorway to anywhere Jareth was. She could only shrug.

Sophie, bless her, came to rescue her just then.

"Ah, Sarah, Jareth's father wishes a word."

Not that that was any better,

"What does he want?" Sarah asked Sophie as the old woman, who still had that youthful look to her, guided her across to the High King and Queen who were politely concluding discussions with several of Robert's business associates.

"I think it is a strategic move to avoid much time spent in discussion of business matters they don't know much about," Sophie said mischievously.

"If Eltharion's anything like Jareth, he could make a paper bag sound interesting."

"True, they have a way with words. I'm off to distract Howl, he's quite heartless in his way he hunts down young ladies." She bustled off in a very stern manner towards a bevy of theatre girls who were drooling over the wizard.

.

Sarah drew up before the High King and Queen and without thinking dropped a curtsey. They acknowledged the gesture with slight bows of their heads.

"So we now have a mortal daughter," the High Queen said in a soft voice as she inspected her. "You are not what I expected when my husband came home with such wild stories. By his account you were ten feet tall, had dragon's horns and breathed fire." She winked. "You'll need all that to keep Jareth on his toes, he's not as restless as his father, but he's too clever for his own good. I wish you all the best, and that your marriage is blessed with much pleasure and beautiful children."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Sarah bobbed another curtsy.

.

There was dancing and food and Sarah was only too pleased to collapse in her place at the head table and eat something. Jareth was dancing with the High Queen, and Eltharion slid into the seat beside her, all elfin grace and poise.

"How many months along are you, if you tire so swiftly?"

Sarah gaped at him.

"Why does everyone think I'm pregnant!" she squeaked.

He blinked those too blue eyes of his and drew himself up with a slight bow as an apology.

"It was a very rushed wedding, I know my son is sensitive about being a bastard and my older sons have always given him a hard time about it. I thought that he'd wish to save his own child the shame. So what would the real reason be?"

Sarah then realised she could tell the High King the truth and felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

"I've just recently come into my magic, and Howl is training me." She explained the complications with Howl and her training and the warmongering King of Ingary. By the time she was finished Eltharion was scowling a hole in the tablecloth before him.

"Are there so few human wizards that Howl is your only option?"

"Unfortunately, yes. He's also our second cousin, we're obliged on many levels," Sarah said.

"And Jareth just throws centuries of tradition into the dust to protect you," he marvelled. "I will give my son his due; he is fiercely loyal and protective." He sounded proud at that moment. "You would visit this mortal King on the morrow?"

"Yes, Jareth's coming along to give the King of Ingary an earful. I hope he doesn't make it worse."

Eltharion chuckled at that.

"He can be very clever with words if the occasion requires. I've found myself on the lesser end of several bargains when he saw fit to put his mind and heart to it. Perhaps I should visit this mortal king who has caused such strife in my family."

Sarah gaped at him, just imagining every awful outcome.

"Just promise me, you and Jareth, you won't get involved in their stupid war!"

"Of course not, we do not deign to involve ourselves or our people in mortal conflicts, they are often trivial, useless and most of the time could be avoided by sorting out the true issue before it becomes a battle. It's why the disputes heard in the petty courts are so important. Mostly they're domestic nonsense, but occasionally you can pick up trends that will cause trouble later."

It was late afternoon by the time everyone left. Sophie and Karen were tidying up when Jareth checked that there were no more guests then threw out six crystals and everything vanished back to what it was.

"Karen, you will find all the hired items in their boxes in your living room. Sophie, all the tablecloths and drapes you lent us are on the front veranda. Thank you for your care and assistance; we could not have done this without the hard work of the two of you."

"Oh, you young charmer," Sophie blushed; she was clearly tired as she looked as old as she always did and hobbled on her walking stick. "Now off with you and your bride. We'll see the cottage is tidy for your return later."

.

Sarah leaned into his chest as Jareth gathered her in his arms and with a bold call of magic took them away. They appeared on a grey beach overlooking a wide sea.

"Where are we?" Sarah whispered.

"Look up," Jareth pointed.

She did so and blinked to find a castle on the upper promontory and a British flag flying from the turret.

"We're in England?"

"Your father explained that this sort of thing is tradition, to surprise the bride with an exotic location. We shall be rooming here for the week, and shall travel to exotic locations, including the city of a very annoying King tomorrow. Does this meet with your expectations?"

"We're in England?" Sarah breathed again, taking in the salty sea air, not daring to believe it was not a dream. She'd only ever visited Wales before now, and then only the little town that Megan stayed in.

"Scotland," he corrected with a smile.

Sarah let out a gasp of delight, as she could not find words to express herself.

"We shall also be visiting France and Greece, as Toby said you wished to see Paris and Athens."

Sarah walked over and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you," she got out around her overwhelmed sniffles. She eyed the castle and shivered in the cool breeze that was blowing. "You know, my mother gave me all sorts of advice for the marriage bed, want to try it out?"

He stared down at her in surprise.

"I'd heard maidens were rather coy about such things."

"Jareth, it's me. I'm not coy."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You said just a few days ago, and I quote 'we have a weird enough relationship without bringing sex into it just yet.'"

"Ah, I can't believe that's coming back to bite me now!" Sarah cringed and slipped out of his arms. She stretched and swayed her way over to the steps carved into the cliff. "I shall just have to go and have fun all by myself, and prove that yes we do have a weird relationship."

Jareth snorted at that.

"My Sarah, you do have that way of exhausting me."

"If it's rest you need, I could always give you a massage." She suggested lightly and smiled as he laughed incredulously.

"Rest? I? It shall be you snoring in deep slumber while I await your waking hours!"

"Then quit dilly dallying and prove it!"


	34. Chapter 34

Sarah watched as he slowly woke. She had been up since five, unable to fall asleep out of sheer excitement. She trailed her fingers through his hair, teasing out the uneven ends. Last night they had been blond, but this morning there were a number of pale blue streaks to match the comforter thrown over the top of the bed. He gave a soft mumble and turned over, only to freeze when he encountered her. He opened both eyes in shock then the biggest grin she had ever seen spread across his face.

"My Sarah!" he whispered with such joy that she could only snuggle down beside him and kiss him good morning.

.

Dressed in their Ingary clothes, they caused several of the castle staff to stare after them as they walked from the castle steps, to where a coach and six were waiting. It was a dark blue carriage with black trimmings and silver worked carriage lamps. A footman in deep burgundy hopped down and opened the door as they approached and Sarah gawked when she saw he was fae, just as the others were. Jareth handed her up as they reached the carriage. She sank down on the plush leather seat opposite High King Eltharion who was clad in resplendent reds and golds.

"What is your plan, father?" Jareth asked, a touch warily as the carriage lurched into motion and swayed down the slightly uneven dirt road back to the main tarred one.

"We have ancient diplomatic ties to this realm of Ingary, but we have not had correspondence in the last five hundred years, not since the increasing prevalence of fire demons in the lands. As it stands, I do not wish to renew any ties, as you know our stance on fire demons." He eyed Jareth askance.

"You met Sophie?" Jareth said coolly.

Sarah gasped as the rolling Scottish countryside shimmered as though through a heat wave and became the cultivated fields around the city of Kingsbury. The horses trotted on as if nothing had happened.

"The maid under that despicable curse?" He grimaced. "It is terrible enough on a fae, but it must have eaten most of her life, she cannot have more than a handful of years remaining to her."

"The demon mage is trying to lift it before his own life ends; I think he sees it as a penance of some kind."

"No penance will be great enough for one who bound his heart to a demon," the High King gazed out of the window at the houses they were passing on the outskirts of the city.

"Sophie's trying to lift that curse," Sarah said. "She's quite frustrated, and just can't quite see how."

Eltharion's expression, while still proud, was sad.

"A fire demon will consume the heart of a person and when that is gone, seek another. It is clear Howl is the first wizard he's claimed, as the more hearts they consume, the more subtle they become. We took to killing both wizard and demon before we could break the cycle. Were this fae territory they would both be executed and staked before the city gates as a dire warning to any so foolish. The damage that demons do to a plains magic is despicable."

"You're not killing Howl!"

"Of course not, but we are here to discuss the issue with the King. He may not know that there is even a problem."

Sarah clenched her fists in her skirts and tried to calm her sudden fury.

"What does a demon do to the magic in a plain?"

"Much the same as a fae, really," Jareth said with a sly glance at his father. "They gather and pool it and use it for their own."

"So," Sarah realised what this was about, "magic is a fairly free resource, but with either fae or demons hoarding it, it becomes a contestable resource and demons happen to be your natural competitors."

Jareth grinned broadly at his father and Eltharion tilted his head to the side in disdain.

"You over simplify, but yes, that is one aspect. The other, of course, is that fae do not take hosts or drain them of life."

"Oh, I can tell you several fairy tales from my plain that says just that!" Sarah said smugly.

"Are you trying my patience?" he asked tetchily.

"Not at all, Your Majesty," Sarah said innocently, "merely pointing out all the holes in the argument. Surely a king of your stature would want your argument watertight."

"She's your wife," Eltharion said in an exasperated tone to Jareth who just smirked at him.

.

They then entered the city of Kingsbury, and Sarah had to hold onto the seat as the cobbled streets rattled the carriage something awful. She could tell it was sprung by the way it gave the cobbles an extra swaying bounce. She eyed the steam cars as they passed and silently vowed to save up enough money to be able to hire one any time they needed to return in style.

The palace was expecting them as the gates were drawn open and the various guards and footmen directed them to a place to park the carriage. Sarah was never so glad to be on solid ground once more.

.

A pageboy strode over, accepted an invite from the High King and hurried off. They were met by a palace flunky who wafted so much perfume it was difficult to breathe around him.

"This way, Your Majesties, Lady," he gestured towards a broad set of stairs that led into the side wing of the palace. "His Majesty, King Tiberius, will receive you in the Grey Cabinet Room," he proceeded to walk before them.

Sarah stared at the sheer opulence of the palace, Sophie was right in saying it was beautiful. Jareth was examining it with an expression of sheer mischief and Sarah had to bite her lip, she knew that look. There would be goblins here before the visit ended. No, she saw one peek out behind a chair, take one startled look at the High King and dive back into his hiding place. He then saw Sarah and waved enthusiastically. Sarah twiddled her fingers in response, which brought out several others to wave as she passed.

"You see them?" Jareth smirked.

"How long have they been here?" Sarah asked curiously.

"Since the palace was built, they are drawn to such establishments, power and magic will naturally pool around a ruling family, and goblins cannot help themselves."

Sarah blinked as she mentally restructured Howl's assessment of how Jareth and his goblins were spread across the plains.

"You're insidious," she whispered in absolute awe. Howl hadn't guessed the half of it.

"No, precious thing," he replied, "my goblins bring mischief not malaise. Often times a place benefits, as they gather the small harmful magic's to my hoard for me to defuse before they cause more damage."

She took his hand and let him guide her through the halls and beautifully appointed rooms as she marvelled at the rapscallion nature of goblins, and the dichotomy of their subtlety.

.

The Grey Cabinet room was a formal chamber with a table to seat twelve and the King and several of his ministers were awaiting them within. The King was a large man in his late thirties, with bright keen gaze and red brown hair with great moustaches on his upper lip. He wore a green military styled coat and strode across the room with the brusque nature of a general as soon as they entered.

"Welcome, welcome!"

He and the High King exchanged careful nods as they eyed each other up. High King Eltharion managed a magnanimous and condescending smile, which oddly had no effect on King Tiberius' enthusiasm.

"It is not every day our small Kingdom receives a request from the High King of all Fairyland himself! Be seated, Your Majesties, Lady. Might I introduce several members of my cabinet," he rattled off their names and positions, from his field marshal to his exchequer. With great aplomb he seated himself while they remained standing.

"It is an honour," Eltharion said as they seated themselves opposite the King and his crowd of advisors.

"We have come with regards to a small issue, which we would see solved before we depart." High King Eltharion traced a small circle on the table before him and a page appeared. He shifted it across to the Field Marshal, who took it up.

"This is the order for all Witches and Wizards to report to the palace to aid in the war effort." He sounded surprised.

The King's eyes flickered directly to Sarah and she stared back, not giving an inch. He was not as foolish as his direct manner made him seem.

"Why does this concern any of Fairyland?" the Field Marshal asked.

"To which of my wizards or witches is the Lady Sarah an apprentice?" King Tiberius asked, addressing Jareth this time.

"Wizard Howl holds her apprenticeship, and we have seen your clever manner of taking witches and wizards of other plains as your own due to the contracts they sign with your Sorcery Academy." Jareth said smoothly. "However, the contract states that Lady Sarah will become citizen of your nation, and this causes a direct conflict with the rule of my own land. Do you understand the difficulty?"

"She is of the royal family?" The King couldn't quite hide the avarice and regret in his voice.

"She is my wife," Jareth said coolly.

The King's eyebrows shot into his hair, and he didn't say it aloud, but all could see he was astonished that a fae King would wed a mortal.

"I can understand how that would create a difficulty. Yet, as she is apprenticed to Howl, the contract stands, she is beholden to our country. It is our skill in magic that benefits her."

"You would attempt to subpoena my Lady wife into serving your country in such a manner?" Jareth asked coolly.

Sarah shivered; she had never felt him so icily furious.

"Certainly! She has enough skill with magic to be of great assistance. Don't worry, we won't send her to the front lines, but she will be a great asset! I will see that Madame Suliman personally takes her under her wing."

"We requested once that this matter be solved, and now twice that it is settled to our mutual satisfaction," High King Eltharion intoned, and there was a definite note of warning in his voice.

"Yes, I can understand that the arrangement is not quite to your satisfaction," King Tiberius soothed, "however that is why we have met here today, that we may negotiate such things. You must understand that I cannot ignore such resources. We must all honour our contracts, and thus Lady Sarah must hold her part of the bargain. We have offered Your Majesties a most princely gift in the favour of our Royal Sorceress, and the protection that her position at the palace will offer. She will be treated as a visiting dignitary with respect to the power of the Fairy Kingdoms whom she represents."

Jareth shifted and Sarah glanced down to see Eltharion's hand clamped on his son's arm, holding him in place.

"A third time, and last, we request that you alter the contract. We do not agree with mortal conflicts and would not see our people engaged in such skirmishes, no matter how remote and disengaged." High King Eltharion's magic flared up around him then, the golden light drifting around the room like benevolent warm sunlight. He was angry, but not yet furious.

"Ah, but there is the crux of the matter," King Tiberius pulled at his moustaches for a moment. "Sarah is mortal, and apprenticed to Wizard Howl. We regret we cannot alter this one contract, for, as you know, the law is for every citizen, not just the one you favour."

"Is this your final word, that you refuse to alter the contract, and to negotiate with us?" High King Eltharion declared.

"Unfortunately, that is the case," King Tiberius stated.

The High King pushed back his chair and stood.

"Then I leave you with no blessing, nor relief. Your war destroys the very citizens you claim to protect, much like the fire demons that haunt your lands. I shall leave my son to negotiate in my place, and he, unlike myself, is not bound by Fae law."

With a shimmer in the sunlight, he was gone.


	35. Chapter 35

A stunned silence remained after High King Eltharion's disappearance and Sarah wafted her hand at the tingling magic that fell over her and Jareth.

There was a mutual wince as the Field Marshal and the King both came to the realisation that the High King of all Fairyland was actually a lesser power to Jareth's unassuming might. She noticed the chagrin in the King's eyes when he realised the depth of the mistake he had just made.

Jareth slouched back in his chair and Sarah could feel the shift of power into his favour at that simple gesture.

"So," he murmured, and from somewhere brought out his favourite riding crop and tapped it against his left palm, "tell me of the war, and the fire demons, and the southern coast of your lands that burn with fire so that mothers call to me to rescue their children as they die." He slapped the tip of his riding crop into his gloved palm. "Sarah had to patch up the burns and wounds on several and see them to new homes."

"You're the Goblin King!" King Tiberius croaked in horror.

"Indeed," Jareth breathed with a mirthless smile.

"You talk of removing this contract from your wife, yet you blatantly steal our citizens!" He roared at him.

"Not so," Jareth continued calmly, "as we are discussing contracts, you will find that your own citizens summon me and form a new one with myself and my Kingdom. All to escape your war, now, tell me, who is the more benevolent King?"

Sarah shivered at his growl of pure disdain.

King Tiberius gaped at him and Jareth glowered back.

"You wish for me to revoke Sarah's contract in exchange for the return of my citizens?"

"No," Jareth said bluntly, "I am no hostage taker. They were given freely and I will uphold my end of the bargain. They shall be my citizens for the rest of their lives. Yet, you would take my wife, and bind her to a war that would only ever work to my benefit and to your detriment. You do, of course, forget that she is my wife and sworn first to the Goblin Kingdom. Who knows what word she might put about the palace? You have children, do you not?"

There was instant uproar and the King's guard appeared bristling swords and guns to surround them.

"You dare to threaten my daughter?" King Tiberius growled in absolute fury, his moustaches bushing out against his cheeks.

Jareth remained slouched back in his chair, supremely unconcerned.

"No, I do not take children. Neither does Sarah. We are gifted those who are wished away. Look to your own citizens for the threat against your own children, and those of your people. How long till the situation here becomes untenable?"

The King made a gesture and the soldiers and guard retreated back to the door, and the ministers settled in their seats again. There was an ugly tension in the air.

"If, and I am most disinclined to do so," King Tiberius growled, "if I do revoke Lady Sarah's contract, tell me, how shall she remain at Wizard Howl's side in order to complete her training? This very day he is summoned to report to the palace for his orders."

"Correspondence, as she has been doing thus far," Jareth said airily.

"And, tell me, what will I gain from her absence at my palace?" King Tiberius ground out.

"She will then be free to be about her own duties, which are as diverse and difficult as my own. She will not be here to remind the people of your country of the old tales, for word will spread of the wife of the Goblin King, as it is already. Do you think your people did not notice the carriage in which we came? Your own greed caused this, Your Majesty, granting my desire will only lessen the renewal of my power, not entirely eradicate it."

King Tiberius scowled like thunder.

"It appears," he said coolly, "that we have reached an impasse. It seems in my favour to release your wife, but at the same juncture would that not free her to roam my lands unchecked? No, Goblin King, she will remain as an aide to Madame Suliman. You, Your Majesty, however are a wholly different matter. You have voiced a verbal threat to my Kingdom that I cannot ignore."

"I have done no such thing," Jareth purred, "yet I can see we have overstayed our welcome."

"You threatened to steal my citizens."

Jareth ignored him and stood, then offered his arm to Sarah.

"As previously stated, you send them to their deaths, where they have no recourse but to call on me. Do not bluster when you have clearly lost." Jareth sneered as the King of Ingary shoved his chair back and marched around the table to them.

"This way," King Tiberius ordered, "I would have Madame Suliman hear of this malarkey you would make of our contracts!"

Jareth walked at several paces behind the outraged King and Sarah followed, suddenly trembling. Behind them came the guard and the ministers.

"What's going to happen?" Sarah whispered to him.

"We'll find a way out of this," Jareth murmured under his breath, "but for now, trust me. Go with him, I will spin an illusion so it appears I accompany you on this walk, but I must leave. There are strange things afoot in this kingdom if they would so openly defy the fae. I suspect a demon is at the heart of it, and mean to take my ire out on his hide."

Sarah recalled just how much power Calcifer could fling around and clamped her fingers around his arm in terror.

"I don't want you fighting," she stammered in desperation.

"Some fights cannot be avoided," Jareth murmured. "I've faced demons and their mages before; they have never been much of a challenge."

She was almost crying as he carefully pried her fingers off his arm. He held her hand as they passed down one glorious stair way and then the next. Goblins appeared, grim and sober, sensing their distress, and in their wake they left grubby smears on the shined silver and wrinkled cloths and cushions tumbled from their chairs. At a turn, Jareth squeezed her hand and drifted off down a different passage as the illusion of the Goblin King continued at her side. Sarah walked trying to keep her composure. Why was magic so wonderful if with it came such difficulties as these?

.

They emerged into an enormous conservatory several stories high with fully grown palm trees spread about in the summer like warmth within. The illusion of the Goblin King faded as they emerged from the trees and Sarah stood alone behind the King as he approached a regal woman seated in an old fashioned wheel chair. She glanced up sharply and stared directly at Sarah.

"My King, what brings you here at this hour, I was under the impression you had a meeting of some importance."

"These," the King turned and found Sarah standing alone. His hand dropped to his side and his moustaches seemed to droop in shock, "where is he?" The King asked blankly.

The soldiers and ministers seemed to realise only then that the Goblin King was missing. The soldiers scrambled around, searching the bushes and the Ministers muttered nervously amongst themselves.

"You have no power over him," Sarah intoned coldly. "You refused a thrice spoken request, and now must face the consequences. What's done is done."

"Come forward, child," Madame Suliman called in her calm voice. "I see that I should have been in this meeting as it was more pertinent than I first suspected. Unfortunately, my health does not allow me to traverse the many steps to the council chambers. In what way has our Kingdom upset the fae?"

Sarah stepped past the King and with a thought wished the paper the High King had left on the King's council desk to her hand. She held it out to the King's Royal Sorcerer.

"To which wizard are you apprenticed that you take such a dislike to our summons?"

"Wizard Howl," Sarah said and Madame Suliman looked as though she had bitten into a lemon.

"You are not from this plain," she murmured, "and as I recall, neither is he. Yet," she twitched the paper, "you have allowed yourself to become beholden to us for our training."

"That is the least of the matters at hand!" The King interrupted. "Her husband, the Goblin King, is somewhere in my palace!"

"Why would he be?" She asked calmly.

"I refused to release his wife from our contract, he took it in poor humour he must be a terrible sport! Who knows what he will do!"

Madame Suliman turned her face to the King and rested her chin on her hand.

"You denied the Goblin King permission to break the contract?" She asked far too pleasantly. The King seemed to take it at face value, and Sarah realised then that Madame Suliman did not mean it in any malicious manner.

"Of course, she must wield a great and powerful magic to capture his interest! Think of what she could do for us!"

At that Madame Suliman closed her eyes.

"Think of what he could do for us," she murmured, and opened her eyes in a tired manner, "or against us. Your Majesty, there have always been goblins in this palace, but you have displeased their King, and the Lady they admire. It will be in your best interest to see she is returned safe and that contract renegotiated."

"You cannot overlook the power she represents!"

"No," Madame Suliman mused, "I cannot. Leave her with me, and I shall speak with her."

"Of course, I knew you would have some way of making her see sense!" The King's usual bluster and affability returned instantly. "We were right in the middle of some important discussions, if you'll excuse us, Madame!"

Sarah folded her arms and watched disdainfully as the King jauntily marched out with his ministers and soldiers in tow. Two page boys set to tidying the mess the soldiers had made hunting through the gardens.


	36. Chapter 36

The King's Royal Sorceress took a long moment to examine her. Sarah was absently watching the page boys trying to carry broken palm fronds and not dirty their clothing when she spoke.

"What loyalty do you owe to Howl that you do this for him?"

"Excuse me?" Sarah retorted indignantly. "I came here of my own free will, and my husband and father in law accompanied me so we might not drag Howl into it. He has enough troubles of his own and they sought to obtain this one favour from the King. However, as it stands we were denied, what's said is said."

"You would protect Howl?"

"He is the master to whom I am apprenticed, is that respect not usual?"

Madame Suliman adjusted her grip on her staff and narrowed her eyes.

"You have greater loyalty to him than that of an apprentice, yet there are no compulsion spells on your person. A matter of the heart, yet you are married, so perhaps not. You present a very peculiar puzzle, child."

Sarah remained silent. She could see three goblins working together to drop grass seeds into Madame Suliman's water glass. They skipped off before the pages and the sorceress noticed. She silently approved.

"Then, of course, there is the question, of the presence of Wizard Howl," Madame Suliman mused in her calm musical voice, "he was requested to report to the palace and has not yet done so. That he would send his apprentice before his own person smacks of cowardice of the worst degree."

Sarah knew Howl hated the war, but she was slowly realising exactly how much he hated the war. He would ignore his own oaths to the detriment of his own magic? Yet, hadn't her coming here been in part to preserve that?

She did not want to talk of Howl, and really did not want to talk of the war. Yet she could not remain silent in Madame Suliman's presence without the old sorceress thinking to dismiss her.

"What do you know of the Goblin Kingdom?" Sarah asked, pleased that there were at least five page boys in the room.

The regal old woman sat back in her chair and tilted her head contemplatively.

"It is said it is both everywhere and nowhere, a place amid nightmares and dreams," the Sorceress said as if recalling long forgotten memories and Sarah felt a spark of triumph when the one of the pages slowed in his work to listen. "There is a King, and now, with your presence, it appears there is also a queen. He rules the goblins, a small, mischievous people with the wit of a human child. There are many legends, some branding him a child thief, and others a malicious tormentor of those who earn his ire. Yet the most persistent legend is that should you say the right words, he will come and take a child at your request. In return, he grants the giver their dreams."

Sarah smiled.

"I wish the Goblin King would–" she got no further in her sentence as the door banged open and a palace flunky announced in resounding tones.

"Mrs Pendragon to see Madame Suliman."

Sarah managed to shut down her surprise as Sophie, now a flustered and somewhat tired old lady, shuffled into the room dressed in a very smart blue dress suitable for an important business meeting.

"Mrs Pendragon?" Sarah stuttered, had Howl married her to keep out of this mess?

"I'm Wizard Howl's mother," Sophie said as she shuffled over and Sarah offered her arm and led her over to the chair the pages set out for her. Sarah helped her to sit, marvelling. Howl was possibly one of the slipperiest eels she had ever met.

Sarah realised that she had best play along.

"Are you quite recovered from yesterday, the event must have been wearying."

"Oh, I am much recovered; a nights rest does wonders for these old bones. How is your young fae? I have seen several of his subjects around."

"In a fury," Sarah summarised, "the King refused our request."

"Howl was worried that that might be the outcome," Sophie murmured, her eyes searching Sarah's face in concern.

"We'll think of something," Sarah reassured her, almost certain that Jareth, and every goblin in the Kingdom was neck deep in the middle of whatever the King was up to.

It was then that a dog huffed his way over to sit underneath Madame Suliman's side table. Sarah frowned as she could feel the magic on the creature, it was not simply a dog. It looked straight at her and gave a huff of a greeting and Sarah was astonished to hear words in her mind.

(His Majesty says to follow Howl's lead, and to help Sophie. She will need it.)

She caught the end of Madame Suliman's introduction of the dog.

"Heen?" Sarah repeated the name while Sophie gave the animal a very sour glower.

(She chose to carry me up every step, of the palace), the dog smirked. (Right alongside the Witch of the Waste. His Majesty was very pleased to discover her; I do believe he's dealing with the enchantments and bindings that her demon laid on the lands.)

"Jareth?" Sarah gasped aloud, remembering how grave he was about the fight. She looked about, and searched with what magic she could muster, but the room was shielded somehow, and confused her senses.

Beside her, Madame Suliman and Sophie argued about Howl's laziness and unsuitability for service to the crown. She tuned back in when Madame Suliman mentioned the Witch of the Waste.

"Send her in," the elderly Sorceress directed and Sarah could only gasp as on a goods trolley, was wheeled in a very ancient and wrinkled old woman. She had no power, and was clearly still in shock the way she watched them glassily and remained silent. What had Jareth done to her? She looked about for a crystal and was unimpressed to find the old woman with it grasped tightly in one hand. Yet, he could only do that, if she wished something away. That was how the magic worked.

It was then that she caught the end of Madame Suliman's somewhat soporific explanation.

"…If not, I'll strip him of all his powers, just like her."

Sarah felt a jolt of alarm. What had Madame Suliman done to her after Jareth was through with her? Did they even know they both used powerful magic on the same person?

Sophie rose to her feet in righteous indignation, and Sarah was brought abruptly back to the present, she could feel the magic surging off her. Sarah gaped; she had not noticed that Sophie herself was magical. It took her a moment to realise that Sophie was defending Howl. As she spoke, denouncing the Kingdom's highhanded way of dealing with rogue witches and wizards, and how Howl could solve the problem with his demon on his own, her appearance changed. Sarah watched in sheer amazement as the age seemed to fall away and a young woman her own age emerged, defending Howl with such passion that it was clear to see she loved the slippery wizard. As she finished, her appearance changed back to that of an elderly woman.

Sarah glanced at Heen who was also trying to get his head around this new development.

(She'd given up the game now,) the dog whuffed, (whoo, but look whose arrived!)

Sarah scowled as the King jauntily stepped into the conservatory from where he had landed a flying craft outside. He greeted them all formally and addressed Madame Suliman with less than his usual bluster. However, his moustache bristled and bustled much as it ever did.

"I've decided not to use magic to win this war. We have tried using Madame Suliman's magic to shield our palace from the enemy's bombs, but the bombs fall on civilian homes instead. That's the problem with magic. Right, Suliman?"

Sarah stared, was this what Jareth's tampering with the demons magic that held the Kingdom in its grasp had done to the King? An about turn?

It was just then that the door she had entered through and King Tiberius in all his majestic bluster marched right through calling about a new battle plan. Sarah knew him for the true king instantly and she and Sophie gaped at the imposter. The King spotted him and burst out laughing.

"That Goblin King, that's the third double I've seen of myself in the past half an hour! Yet he has a tactical mind like no other. His illusions order my servants into minor confusions while he sat with his feet on my battle table and told my Field Marshal exactly what to do!"

Sarah wanted to run after him as the King handed Madame Suliman a pile of notes and then strode off, still chortling to himself.

(Stay,) Heen huffed and Sarah remembered the earlier instructions. She then went cold as she realised who exactly stood beside them. Sophie it seemed had realised at the same time as she gasped.

"Only, you're no fae construct," Madame Suliman eyed the imposter. "You were my apprentice Howl, do you not think I would recognise your magic?"

Howl let the illusion fall and stood in the green uniform that the King wore and gave a slightly mocking nod of his head.

"I hope you are well," he said, all politeness and calm. Sarah could only marvel, she could act, but not like this where everything depended on it.

The regal elderly sorceress inclined her head.

"A poor choice of disguises, one could be so easily revealed."

"Ah, but I amused the King did I not?"

Sarah could feel the edges of Howl's magic building subtly around them and relaxed and added her own. Howl flinched for a moment then wove hers in with his with a skill she could only yet dream.

"I kept my oath, I reported when summoned. As did my apprentice. Now we shall depart."

Sarah gaped in sheer awe at their audacity, Jareth and Howl, had they planned this or had they taped it together with spit and prayers?

"I think not!" Madame Suliman declared as around them rose the dry soulless magic, of an ordered ritual. Sarah shuddered and drew still more magic for Howl to weave about them, until the whole room was humming with it and the soulless magic only rasped and creaked but had no effect. She was jerked sideways as Sophie grabbed her by the back of her dress. Sarah caught glimpses of illusions of great waves and depthless falling among the stars. She surged her magic against the nasty dry ritual magic and with a stamp of her feet broke through it. At that Howl snatched them all and launched himself upwards, summoning the magic around as feathers to coat his wings. He smashed them through the roof of the conservatory and dumped them onto the flying craft which he launched into the skies. Sarah clung to the back of Sophie's chair while the ancient old Witch of the Waste and Heen huddled in the second seat. Howl gracefully let the magic fall from himself and Sarah ran her fingers through the air to gather it back home. For a moment she was aware of the Labyrinth then it faded.

Howl was giving Sophie a crash course in how to fly the craft as they passed over the Palace and the city below. There, down the main causeway of the city a coach and six thundered with a man in a flaring black cloak on the driver's bench. As he hit the outskirts of the city he vanished, coach and all. Jareth, he'd only been in the palace as long as she had.

It was then that Howl cast an elaborate illusion, only making them invisible and remaining visible himself. Sophie almost took out a tree and a clock tower trying to remain airborne but she managed. Sarah clung on feeling ill. She sank down behind Sophie's chair and clung on for dear life.

"This is why you never let men come up with the plan," Sarah grumbled.

Sophie chortled at that.

"My choice would have been to see the King to negotiate half the kingdom and his daughter in marriage to Howl!"

"I would at least have set that conservatory on fire," Sarah declared. "I'd feel sorry for the King's daughter." She let out a long breath as the tension eased from her shoulders. "I can't believe Howl sneaked around the oath like that!"

"Now we know what the twisty words are for," Sophie declared primly, "so that we might twist them right back as those who would order our lives for their power."

"I'm with you on that one," Sarah agreed. She peered around Sophie who seemed to be following a lighted navigating device on her ring. "Where are we going?"

"Back to the castle on the Wastes," she explained. "Calcifer and Michael should be waiting for us there."

"What of Howl?" Sarah worried, glancing back to where the flying craft grew steadily more distant as they chased Howl and his illusion.

The whirr of the flying machine seemed to fill her head with humming, as Sophie was quiet for a long time. Sarah checked Heen and the Witch of the Waste behind her. They were both huddled in the Witch's thick robe and seemed settled, if somewhat out of it. Heen looked decidedly airsick.

"I fear he'll go back to fighting the war," Sophie said in a very small voice.

"I thought he was against war!" Sarah said in shock.

"He is! He spends his nights flying in that awful bird form downing enemy ships with magic. I know you hate our King, but he only fights in defence of our country. The neighbouring kingdom lost its prince and blamed us, and it's all such a dreadful mess and Howl seems to be at the heart of it all."

"Jareth said that demons have a way of gathering power to them, perhaps Calcifer can explain it better."

"We'll have to ask him when we get to the castle," Sophie resolved.

"What of the spell that is on you?" Sarah asked, curiously.

"You can see it?" Sophie gasped. "This is where I hate my good nature. The Witch of the Waste, yes that old biddy we have tucked in the back seat, cast it on me! She seems to think I am a rival for her power! Deluded old thing. I'm the eldest of three sisters, doomed to fail at anything I try! I could not set myself up as a hedge magician, let alone rival the most powerful witch of the age. Only, when I asked her to take it off, she says her skills are in casting, not removing!"

"But Howl says you have to know the mechanics of a spell so you can do both, not just the rote incantation!" Sarah protested. That had tripped her up more often than not; until she painstakingly worked out the way of wording a spell do unravel it just as she had woven it. She was still terrible at it though, and Howl had her practicing that more than casting.

"Exactly my point," Sophie sniffed, "it seems the Witch of the Waste was somewhat lazy in her studies."

They both turned back to glower at the old woman who appeared to be snoozing. Sophie gave a regretful sigh, clearly dreaming of tipping the craft and letting her fall off, and went back to flying.


	37. Chapter 37

They arrived wet, cold and miserable at the Wastes.

"Oh good, Calcifer is bringing the castle to meet us!" Sophie called.

Sarah groggily shifted and hissed as her back cramped. She worked her fingers loose from the chair and peered around Sophie, who headed for the largest mechanical monstrosity she had ever seen. It was a huge iron conglomerate of various parts and pieces all held together by demon magic. Great plumes of smoke puffed from the chimneys, the thing undulated more than walked on clawed mechanical legs.

"A moving castle!" she breathed in awe.

"Oh yes, Howl would scare all the girls in my town, moving his castle to the very edge of the Waste as he did on occasion. Dreadful thing to look at outside, isn't it?"

"But we don't feel as though we're moving inside!" Sarah protested. No wonder Michael had been aghast at her having climbed in the upstairs window. Had she tried that here, she would not know where to find the upstairs window!

"I know, Howl is very clever," Sophie said fondly.

Sarah then realised what Howl had done and felt rather ticked at him when he had instructed her to keep only one door.

"He's blazing at least five if not six doorways! And he has the cheek to limit me to one! Ooh, when I get hold of him!"

Sophie gave a yelp of dismay.

"How do I land this thing?"

They went down screaming.

.

Sarah rolled groggily off the pile of rubble she had come to rest on. She blinked blearily at Calcifer and he hissed and spat at her.

"You stink of fae magic!"

"Your demon magic is scratchy and hot," Sarah retorted and pulled herself to her feet, then offered Calcifer another log. It wouldn't make up for crashing into the side of the castle, but at least it would keep him busy until they sorted out the mess. Michael helped Sophie upstairs to the bathroom and Sarah found a large tin tub and a screen for the Witch of the Waste and filled it with hot water from the kitchen sink. Once the old lady was tucked in the hot water and her shivers were slowly easing off, Sarah sank down on the hearth beside Calcifer. The fire demon was flickering all over his new log.

"See that they're all okay," she said to Calcifer.

"Who else does any work around here?" Calcifer flared up, sending sparks up the chimney.

"And tell Howl, thank you. He rescued me from the palace, did you know?"

Calcifer crackled along the log.

"We had that wicked Fae of yours right in here, all mists and illusions he is. He and Howl agreed on something and I can tell you now, they both are heading for ruin."

"They want to end the war," Sarah gasped.

"They do," Calcifer spat and burned low on his log. "But at what cost? This is none of their business, yet…."

"Yet they both have something precious to them that they want to protect. Sophie loves Howl."

"I know," Calcifer flickered almost blue about the coal under him, "Howl and I can feel it."

"Will that break the curse you two are under?"

"Maybe," Calcifer whined and Sarah put on two more logs as he seemed to be so weak just then.

"I'm headed back home. I think I've missed play practice and Jareth has probably worn a hole in my rug worrying where I am."

"I've kicked several goblins out of the castle," Calcifer cackled, "tell their King that this is my domain and unless he wants roast goblin, not to send any more."

"So he was worried! See you tomorrow!" She ran for the door, twisted the marker and hopped out into the wonderfully safe and normal America. She was halfway home, before she realised that home was now the little cottage she had just left. Also, a quick bath and change of clothes would certainly go a long way in not having to explain the insanity of her day to her father and stepmother. She hurried back to the cottage and opened the back door. There were a pile of gifts beside the door, but what caught her attention was a little candle placed in the middle of the room. A few feet away was another, and then another, and they snaked all the way through the bathroom door. She peeked in to find Jareth very comfortably reading in the bath by candlelight. His eyebrows shot up as he saw her.

"You need this more than me!" he declared and stashed the book on the cabinet beside the bath.

"Stay there," Sarah said with half a dreamy smile. She ran back to the door, closed it and carefully carried all the candles back to the bathroom. They flickered along the shelf as she dragged her dusty and sodden clothes off then with a wash rag got rid of the worst grime on her hands and face. She then climbed into the warm water beside him, hissing as it touched her grazes. She sighed and closed her eyes as he poured water over her head and massaged the shampoo in. She was almost dozing by the time he was done and pulled her back to lie against his chest.

"Bad day?"

Sarah began to laugh. She tilted her head and kissed what she could reach of his chin.

"I'm so glad I married you," she whispered, "you'll always understand any insane explanation of a crazy day."

"I suspect," he trailed his fingers down her collarbone, "that I will more often than not be right there amidst the crazy with you."

"True," her breath hitched as his voice became husky as he whispered in her ear.

"What kept you, precious thing? I had promised myself that I would only go hunting you if you hadn't summoned me by the time I'd read thirty pages. I was on twenty nine."

"Sorry," she whispered, and then proceeded to tell him just how her day had been since leaving him.

.

The next morning came far too early. Sarah felt stiff all over and mumbled her complaints as Jareth poked her awake. The castle hotel bed was so very comfortable.

"We're off to Athens today."

She opened one eye at that, and pushed herself up, only to double over with a sharp hiss.

He turned from critically eyeing himself in the mirror to return to her. Sarah bit her lip and almost forgot her sore back in dreamily taking in how good he looked in jeans and a white t-shirt.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She tried shifting her shoulder and hissed in pain.

"Sophie crashed the flying machine; I tumbled a bit and must have landed wrong. My back hurts."

"Can't be helped that we'll be a little late, but we don't want to arrive on top of the Acropolis after eleven or we'll roast."

"It's only five in the morning!" Sarah yawned at the clock.

"It's seven in Greece, and we're walking up the hill," he reminded her. "Lie on your stomach and I'll see what damage you've done to yourself. You should have said something last night!"

Sarah flopped back onto the bed and closed her eyes with a giggle.

"We were too distracted by other things last night."

He hummed and ran his hands all over her aching back. She squeaked as he worked out little knots in some places and in others he pooled the most glorious warmth in his palms and she could feel the ache ease. She was sleepily boneless by the time he had finished.

"Better?"

"Mmhh," she said just as he snatched the blankets off entirely. "I'm up, I'm up!" she flopped out of bed and stretched, then noticed him watching her. Pretending not to notice she took her time getting dressed. He lasted as long as it took her to pull her underwear on before he had his arms around her and kissed her longingly.

"I'm going to open the doorways," he said and she was sure his retreat was so that they would end up in Athens in the next five minutes and not spend the rest of the day in bed.

.

It was a warm clear day in Athens, and many tourists were making their way up the same streets as them. They ate a breakfast as they walked, then ambled through the monuments, examining the various ruins. Despite their disrepair, there was grandeur and a powerful sense of history about them. It grounded her in a sense of the continuity of time, and spoke of lives lived to pass on the determination to the next generation. Sarah was privately disappointed that the Parthenon was covered in scaffolding for repairs, but they could make out what a grand building it was despite them. Jareth had a guidebook; he would fussily look up the fact and then proceed to read screeds of extraneous information from it whenever she asked him a question. They fell into giggles more often than not.

They ended up sitting on a rock overlooking the city of Athens.

"I'd have thought you'd have visited this place back in the day," Sarah said wistfully.

He turned back to the ruins.

"I've seen it once or twice."

"And weren't impressed," Sarah laughed at his tone of voice.

He shook his head.

"I visited shortly after the Sultan captured the city in the mid fourteen hundreds. It smells better than it did then and that's with the pollution."

"Eew, I don't want to know how bad dead bodies smell," she shuddered. "What was it like? Aside from stinky," she added at the mischief on his face.

He squinted up at the sky for a moment as if he were dredging up an old memory, then with a twist of his hand held out a crystal. Sarah very cautiously took it and peeked inside. All about her the bustling city fell away to only a few miles and fields stretched out to the surrounding mountains. Behind her were several structures in various states of disrepair, yet some in far better condition than they were now. She blinked and the vision was gone.

"Wow," she whispered.

"Be careful of dwelling too long on the past," he murmured as the crystal disappeared. "It may contain a bright moment, and a treasured memory, but to dwell too long is to fall under a dream of lost moments and to sap the vitality of the life you now live."

Sarah considered the warning for what it was.

"Your mother," she whispered, realising something, "she is a being of such things, which is why you can conjure and trap dreams."

He quirked a slight smile, though melancholy lingered in his eyes.

"Yes, she is, and I now realise why I had the childhood I did, it was in her nature and she could not have raised me any other way."

She shuffled over and slipped her arm around his back. They sat there listening to the hum of cars below and the chattering of different languages of the tourists behind them.

"Why did you want to visit Athens?" he asked.

Sarah opened her mouth, flushed bright red and began to laugh.

He leaned over and peered at her with great curiosity.

"This is going to be good," he kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her when she just laughed silently.

She settled her head against his shoulder.

"When I was fifteen, I met this really annoying fae king."

"Really annoying?"

"Yes! So annoying in fact that I couldn't get him out of my head!"

"Is that so, precious thing?" he sounded very smug at that.

"So, I tried looking up everything about the fae, only to find a whole lot of stories, some believable and some not. And that year our theatre performed A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"Oberon and Tatiana, who were out in the forests just outside the city of Athens," he said with understanding.

"I kind of had a thing for Oberon, after that," she admitted sheepishly. "Oh, the boy who played him at the theatre was mediocre, yet I loved the way Shakespeare wrote him. I don't know what it was, but he sounded enchanting."

She felt Jareth shift slightly at her side.

"That brought me back to this pestilential fae king I met when I was fifteen. Only I was now sixteen and he made sure to remind me he was still around. His goblins made little paper decorations out of my copy of the story and I was so upset I hated him and the wretched goblins."

He trailed his fingers down her back in silent comfort.

"My father must have noticed, as for my seventeenth birthday he bought me the book with Arthur Rackham illustrations. I read all I could discover about ancient Athens, but there wasn't much description of a wood and I realised that it was just that, a story. Somehow, in all that mess, I grew to like the city. I've always wanted to come here, for a dream of something that never was." She turned to him and smiled. "Yet, to come here with you and your complicated dislike yet love of the past. I think you've made it a thousand times more enchanting than a story ever could."

A thought then occurred to her.

"To return to that dastardly fae king," she said and he pulled a face at her making her laugh. "Several days ago, he landed in a spot of trouble with his girlfriends terrible attempt at releasing magically tied up grief. So badly so he is stuck in bed while she has to go and shoo away the elf the High King had sent. As a final attempt to eradicate the awful attempts at remodelling the elf had tried on the throne room, she tried to set it to the image Arthur Rackham had painted of the forest of Athens. Only it came out in trees of metal. I think my subconscious was trying to tell me you were the fae king I was searching for all along."

He hugged her, all mischievous smiles.

"Imagine all the fun we could have had if you'd only realised that earlier."

"I don't know," she admitted softly, "I would never have looked seriously at you if it hadn't been for Sophie and Howl. I've learned a lot from them."

"Then I owe them a debt beyond what I could ever repay," he whispered.

She hugged him tight; she could feel the grief he radiated underneath the joy.

"And I owe them and you my heartfelt thanks, both times for helping me get over myself and to grow up."

"Anything for you, precious thing, anything," he breathed.

.

As the sun climbed towards the hottest part of the day, they took a taxi out of the city and visited Posidon's Temple at Sounion, and swam at the beach below. The views were beautiful and they sat watching the sunset over the seas before the skies became fully dark. They were walking with their ankles in the water when a gong sounded around them.

Jareth gave a bitter laugh.

"Best be getting back to work then," she murmured. "Do you mind dropping me off in America? I want to arrange the cottage and visit Sophie. I didn't get a chance to see if she was well after everything that happened."

"Of course, precious thing," he drew her off the beach and the moment they were out of the sight of the local tourists he called the magic to him. They appeared in full daylight in her back garden.

"Ugh," Sarah blinked as the light dazzled her eyes, "talk about dislocation!"

She caught him by the edge of his T-shirt and tugged him back before he could step away. She then grasped his face in her hands and kissed him soundly.

"Don't forget you're wearing jeans and a T-shirt," she reminded him.

From the surprise he tried to hide under a haughty huff, he had.


	38. Chapter 38

She knocked on the door that was technically the front door of her cottage and Toby stuck his head out, while trying to keep the rest of the room from view.

"Oh, it's just you!" he said in relief and vanished back inside.

"Toby, what kind of greeting is that?" Sarah called and walked in to shut the door behind her.

"They all sent me out because they don't have customers in America and didn't know what to say to an American," Toby complained as he settled back to building the card tower on the carpet beside where Michael had his own card tower.

Sarah reached the top step and stared at the differently shaped room.

"Wow, Sophie, you've remodelled."

Sophie smiled, but the smile did not touch her eyes, a boisterous Michael distracted her.

"Yeah," the boy exclaimed. "Howl moved the castle last night! It was scary but so awesome at the same time. Look at all the extra rooms we have!"

He grabbed her hand and dragged her across to inspect Sophie's new room and the alcove for the old woman who had been the Witch of the Waste. A toilet was also on the tour as well as three extra rooms upstairs.

Michael showed her the neat guest rooms, then with a glance downstairs, he beckoned her closer.

"I think when Howl is done with the war he wants to marry Sophie," he said as if imparting some earth shattering secret. "Only, Calcifer says we have to help her shift that spell that's on her. Can you or Jareth do anything?"

"We're working on it," Sarah promised. If Jareth, Howl and Calcifer who knew a great deal more magic than she could not work out how to shift it, she doubted she could do anything to help.

"Oh, and come and look at this, we have a shop!" Michael dragged her down the stairs and out the front door. It was always strange going out the very door she had come in and finding not America but some other land.

She walked through the shop and stood outside the street doors as Michael went on excitedly about how Howl and Sophie wanted to set up a flower shop. She knew this place. She hopped down the stairs and crossed the street as Michael raised his hands.

"Isn't it great?"

Sarah blinked; they were in Market Chipping. The shop had once been the hat shop that Sophie's stepmother had owned. Sarah wondered what had happened to the flourishing business for Howl to now have the shop. It was then that she noticed the busy street had people going only one way, out of town. Some of them had baggage on their backs and others had wheelbarrows piled with their belongings. She blinked as she realised she was seeing an evacuation. She swallowed hard; she couldn't let a child see how frightened she suddenly was.

"I am sure it will be wonderful, this is a good location, so many people pass by to and from the square," she said warmly to Michael as they returned inside.

.

She settled beside Sophie on the kitchen bench as Michael returned to his card building.

"Want some help setting up the shop?" she asked. She needed something to distract her from worrying about the town of Market Chipping and the danger it was in.

Sophie gave her an odd smile and a tiny nod. They took what buckets and bowls Howl did not use from the kitchen and broom closet and took them through to the shop. Every second row of shelving would have to be removed. Sarah fetched a screwdriver from the tool chest in Howl's messy back yard workshop and set about the task while Sophie pottered about, shifting the low benches and chairs into a design more suited to a flower store.

"I'm worried about Howl," Sophie said as she plucked at the curtains with an absent expression and with a pencil marked the best place for the drapes to be caught away from the window.

Ah, Sarah thought, so she was upset about something.

"What has he done now?" she asked, she had yet to get out of Jareth exactly what insanity he had wrought in the palace, they'd become somewhat distracted.

Sophie turned to her, looking younger than ever, though her hair remained silver. Sarah examined the curse then; it seemed to be somehow linked to her mind. Howl had briefly touched on that in his glossing over of the range of spells. Those were the hardest to cast and the most devilish to remove.

"He, he moved the castle." Sophie took a deep breath as if to gain courage. "He ripped up the doorways to Kingsbury and Porthaven and made new ones. One to this shop here in Market Chipping, and one to Star Lake where the most beautiful carpet of flowers grow."

"That sounds wonderful," Sarah said, not quite seeing why Sophie was so upset.

"Oh it is!" Sophie crossed the room and peered sadly at the street doors of the shop. "It is wonderful, and that's the problem! It's, it's as though he's setting things up so we can take care of ourselves," she took a deep steadying breath, "without him."

Sarah's eyes widened as suffocating alarm wrapped around her. First the evacuating town and now this, she then recalled her earlier conversation with the fire demon.

"Calcifer said Jareth and Howl had a plan that would lead them both to ruin!"

Sophie gasped and stood with her hands over her mouth half sobbing, yet still fighting tears.

"Don't worry," Sarah said dangerously, "I'll wring it out of Jareth if it's the last thing I do. If I see Howl first I'll have a crack at him also, stupid men who think they can save the world all alone."

Sophie gave her a crooked smile and dabbed a handkerchief at her eyes.

"He moved the castle so that the King wouldn't be able to find him either as Jenkins or Pendragon."

"This was your family's shop, that's not a far leap and I am sure Madame Suliman knows about you by now."

Sophie sniffed and peered around the room.

"My stepmother recently remarried, and wanted to move the shop into the nicer market district on the other side of the square. Howl must have bought it from her."

She made a gesture for Sarah to follow her and walked her back into the main house and up to the room Michael had declared her bedroom. She closed the door so that none in the living room could hear. As she did so a train rattled past them on the raised track outside the house, the clouds of steam and soot blocked the light from the skies for a moment.

"This used to be my work room," she said gesturing around it. "I trimmed hats for my step mother while she worked in the shop. I was really good at it. Only, I left that life behind and went to live with Howl," her smile became genuine for the first time that afternoon. "It was like a dream, a new exciting place, and so many interesting people to meet and places to see. Then, the summons came for Howl, for both his working names, and we ended up at the palace. And somehow, I'm back here, in this house." Sophie sniffed. "Sarah, I'm so scared! It's as if I've gone the full circle. What if this is as far as I'm meant to go! What if Howl goes on without me?"

Sarah walked over and put her arms around Sophie as she cried. Sarah did not know what to say in response. The way Howl was acting, he seemed to believe that also. Well, she was family, and if there was one thing she knew about family, was that you never could quite get rid of them. She'd tried blocking Karen out with bad behaviour, and had wished Toby away, and both were still around. No, Howl had made a critical mistake in his acknowledgement of them being second cousins.

Sophie slipped out of her arms and went to sit on her bed with an expression of deep exhaustion on her face. How long had she been carrying that worry alone?

Sarah plumped herself down on the bed beside her.

"Why don't you take a short nap, just ten minutes to settle yourself. I'll make tea and I'll call you when it's done. Then we can go and gather flowers in the field and make posies to sell to the passersby for a penny each."

"You think it's hopeless?" Sophie whispered in dismay.

"No! Howl's earned a boot on the backside for attempting to slither out of his responsibility for Michael at the very least, not to mention you and Calcifer. My boot in particular. Don't fret, he'll be straightened out in no time."

Sophie gave a shaky smile then straightened.

"I could sew all his pockets closed and stitch pink hearts on his drawers."

Sarah sniggered at Howl in such garments. Sophie fidgeted, but the smile remained.

"Have your nap, I'll get tea. I'm sure some rest will produce many more excellent ideas."

.

Making tea was far more complicated than Sarah had realised. Calcifer hissed and spat at her.

"No! Only Howl cooks on me!" he hissed so low it could be construed as the regular crackling of the fire.

The Witch of the Waste who was now in Sophie's chair near the fire eyed the hearth with a tired wonder.

"What a pretty fire," she cooed.

"Pretty!" Sarah snorted and eyed Calcifer. "Okay," she held out a thin log above Calcifer and he leaped and danced underneath it. "You light this with some of your fire, and I'll take it to the far side of the hearth, away from you, and boil the kettle there!"

"No!" Calcifer leaped and Sarah had to drop the log as the fire demon rippled his flames all along it.

"I'll be right over on the other side of the hearth!" Sarah protested.

Calcifer proceeded to duck right down and crackle all over the log and ignore her.

"The drama queens we have in our lives," Sarah drew her hand over her forehead then had an idea.

"Wait just a moment!" She grabbed the kettle and ran for the door. She spun the dial down to orange and popped out into America.

She stood in her own cottage boiling water on the gas hob.

"Stupid pig headed males," she grumbled to herself. "None of them can do anything without twisting it into something ridiculously complicated!"

She yawned. She felt exhausted, but she had promised Sophie tea, and the poor girl needed it. She leaned against the counter and examined the room. It was such a small cottage, but already it felt a little like home. The kettle finally boiled and she bunched up a dishcloth from the sink and carried it out of her house. She paused for a moment, near the door in semi shade, was a chamomile plant. She picked several flower heads and carried them back to the castle. She knocked and Toby answered.

"I think this is Sophie's mom," he warned her as she slipped inside.

Sarah peered up over the stairs and saw a very modish lady flittering about and Sophie chatting with her. Sarah slipped over to the kitchen and set the chamomile tea to brew. She had just set out enough for everyone, when the lady exclaimed in her gracious voice.

"I've got a car waiting, I've got to run."

Sophie saw her out with Toby and Michael running to see what sort of car she had. The Witch of the Waste snatched up the lady's bag that had been dropped on the table.

"Oh, she left that behind!" Sarah exclaimed. "I'll take it to her!"

"It was intentional, my dear," the old woman told her in a far too together and knowing voice. Sarah blinked; she had not spoken to the woman since she had recovered from having lost her magic. "Ah!" the old woman snatched out a wriggling writhing shadow.

Sarah felt the hackles on her neck go up. It reeked of that horrid dry ritual magic that Madame Suliman used.

"A peeking bug!" The Witch of the Waste tossed it to Calcifer who coughed and choked.

"What have you done!" Sarah ran across the room and poked a stick at Calcifer, but he only spluttered and burned dimly. She carefully built up some thin sticks about him, but the fire demon lurked low and snappish about his coal.

"Madame Suliman is far too curious about the goings on in this little house. That dog may have switched his loyalties if she's sent this as her backup."

Sarah eyed Heen dangerously and he gave an indignant huff.

(I would rather serve fae, than human or demon, I watch this house, Lady.)

Sarah leaned over and scratched his head.

"Thank you," she murmured. He turned over to have his belly rubbed.

Sophie returned with the two boys and Sarah served the tea.

"Eew, what is this stuff?" Toby wrinkled his nose.

"Chamomile tea," Sarah declared pulling a face at her brother.

"Good for calming nerves, and sleep," the Witch of the Waste observed. "It is still some time till bed, perhaps lemon balm tea next time if you wish to serve a calming drink during the day."

Sarah had not thought of that, and nodded in agreement. She had so much still to learn.


	39. Chapter 39

Without realising it, Sarah fell asleep on the couch near Calcifer's fire. She came awake when an almighty roar shook the house. The last thing she remembered was sipping chamomile tea. Ah, that would do it, for how tired she was. She pushed herself blearily upright as Sophie dragged Michael away from the window after slamming it shut.

"What was that?" Toby yelped from the floor where his cards lay jumped about and scattered from the game of rummy he and Michael had been playing.

"A bomb," Sarah whispered in horror. "They're bombing Market Chipping!" She darted over to Sophie. "Let me take the boys to my parents, please!"

Sophie gave a sharp nod.

"But I don't want to leave you!" Michael sniffed as he realised what was going on.

"Someone has to stay to tell Howl where everyone is!" Sophie said in determination.

"I'm too old to go gadding in for'n lands," the Witch of the Waste declared.

"Come on boys, hurry!" Sarah yanked the door open and had to drag Michael out into the honestly eerily normal street. She all but ran the whole way. Toby clearly frightened out of his wits and Michael fretting about Sophie.

Toby ran for Karen as soon as they entered the house and Sarah plumped Michael down on the couch and handed him a bag of Hersheys kisses to distract him.

"Eat that, the sugar might help."

He looked as though he were about to cry.

"Sarah, what's wrong?" Karen said in bewilderment.

"Look after them for the evening, I've got to go!" Sarah ran out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

.

She sprinted back to the house and almost collapsed in relief when the door opened for her into the castle. She slammed it closed behind her making Sophie scream with fright.

"Oh, Sarah!" She clutched at her heart. "Madame Suliman sent these strange shadow creatures that appear human but aren't! I thought they'd got in!"

"In the middle of a bombing raid?" Sarah squeaked. "That woman has no business being a Royal Sorceress, she's more callous than she accused Howl of being!"

Sophie gave a fierce nod.

"Michael and Toby are at my parent's home for the night, so they're safe. What are we going to do about all of you? You can't stay here!"

"We can't move," Sophie fretted, "Howl–" she peered at the flare and flash of the window. The ground shook as another bombing raid came through.

"Jareth's going to kill me when he realises I stayed to help!" Sarah fretted. "We can't stay, Sophie. Where is Howl? Is there any way to call him? Can Calcifer do that?"

Sophie shook her head in bewilderment.

"Then we need to get down to the basement! Does this house have a basement?"

Sophie shook her head, as an explosion rocked the entire building and they heard glass shattering. Sarah held her ears as they rang with the noise.

"I have to go and check the shop!" Sophie sprinted for the door and yanked it open.

"Not with bombs falling!" Sarah darted after her, but only caught her as she stared in dismay at the shattered front windows. The plants and pots were strewn all over the shop.

"Take the money tin and bring it into the house, but we must get back!" Sarah shook her.

Sophie moved as if in a dream and grasped the tin and numbly handed it to Sarah.

"The shop," she whispered, then an expression of fierce determination washed over her as she snapped out of her shock. "I will not let some lousy war frighten me. Thanks for holding it together, Sarah, I needed that."

"We need to go back inside!" Sarah said, not admitting she had almost lost it right along with Sophie. But Sophie wasn't paying any attention. The whine of a battleship drew her eyes up overhead and Sarah gaped in utter horror as a bomb dropped like a drop of water down right in the courtyard in which they stood. An instant later a dark streak dove out of the skies. She would recognise Howl's bird form anywhere, the pure magic holding it together was astounding. Howl caught the falling mortar and Sarah staggered back at the sheer strength of the magic he used to render it useless. It thumped onto the ground with a clang while all the others went off with horrific explosions all around them. Sophie shot across the courtyard and buried herself in his chest.

So much for her not yet having confessed her feelings for him, she thought.

"Howl, I've taken Michael to safety at my parent's place," Sarah told him as he noticed her there with an anxious expression of alarm. "I'm trying to convince the others to come too, but …" she gestured to Sophie helplessly.

He gave her an as helpless expression of dismay.

"I cannot allow the bombers free run of the skies," he said tiredly as he turned Sophie and walked her back into the house. Sarah wondered what the urgency was then felt it before she saw them, that eerie dry ritual magic of Madame Suliman's sending. She was up the stairs before Howl and Sophie were, the eerie shadow people melting and surging across the path towards them.

Howl slammed a fierce barrage of magic at them then slammed the door. It rattled but they could not enter, not with the sheer force of Howl's protection flaring against it. He released Sophie and marched over to where Calcifer lay spluttering over a log. He poured the majority of his magic over the fire demon and drew him to life again. Calcifer coughed and spluttered.

"He ate something Madame Suliman sneaked in," Sarah explained at Howl's concerned expression. "A peeping bug, I think it was called, it was that nasty dry ritual magic without a soul behind it."

Howl raised an eyebrow at that.

"You can differentiate between the nature and types of magic used? That is a very unusual talent."

"I can feel it," Sarah explained.

"She's soft about the edges, just like the fae," the Witch of the Waste declared. "Beautiful to look at but their hearts are so cold, they would not satisfy me."

Sarah gave her a disgusted stare.

"She's one creepy old grandma," she muttered to Howl.

He only returned a slightly strained but polite smile. He winced as more explosions sounded further down the valley.

"I must return. Keep everyone indoors, at least," he instructed and strode over to the door.

Sophie caught him just before he left and Sarah couldn't hear what they said, but Howl swept out the door and launched himself into the skies again. The weird shadow men returned and Sophie slammed the door on them.

"We've got to go," Sarah tried, but Sophie fiercely shook her head. Sarah agreed with her. She wouldn't go anywhere if Jareth was in half as much danger.

.

A determined expression entered Sophie's eyes and she spun the dial and opened it and ran out into the evening and the rain. Sarah followed her the short distance to a lookout point atop the hills at the edge of the Waste, below them the town of Market Chipping burned. A regular thump thump sound of a stick pounding in the ground made Sarah look about then shriek in fright. She made Sophie jump then click her tongue at her in annoyance.

"That's only Turnip-Head. He's our resident scarecrow. He follows the castle about the Waste."

Sarah gaped up at what could be a very effective Halloween costume. She had never seen something quite so creepy yet apparently friendly.

"Er, pleased to meet you?" Sarah said weakly.

The scarecrow hopped and twirled as if speaking his pleasure. Sarah sidled away, and tried not to make it obvious. It felt wrong. It was clearly an inanimate object brought to life, but it had a soul and the magic about it was like thorns and poison.

"Howl's never going to stop," Sophie whispered. Sarah hurried to her side, glad of the excuse.

"Not while the door is there. Is there any way to disengage the Market Chipping exit?"

"No," Sophie shook her head. "You have to understand, Calcifer is the one powering the doors, but he has to live somewhere, and he lives in Market Chipping. Even if all the doors fail, we will still be in Market Chipping!"

"What if you take Calcifer out of another door? I mean Jareth did it when he called Calcifer to Howl at the cottage, didn't he?"

Sophie stared down at the burning town with her arms tightly folded about her. The rain came in short gusts now, soaking them both and leaving them shivering.

"Leave Market Chipping?" Sophie said in a pained voice.

"It will break that circle," Sarah explained. "Howl may think he knows magic and the balancing and settling of a comfortable life, but he doesn't know everything! Life isn't meant to be comfortable and safely returned to what it was. Jareth taught me that. It's meant to be fought for and lived well!"

Sophie spun around and grabbed her arms.

"To break Howl's protection of me and that town, we must move Calcifer! We might tie the universe in knots, but it might just work! Hurry! They're starting another run!"

Sarah helped the Witch of the Waste out of the house and Heen whuffed and followed after them.

She could hear Sophie arguing with and cajoling Calcifer the whole way to the door. Sarah glanced up at the towering metal monstrosity of the castle looming above them and prudently moved them back several more yards.

Sophie came out backwards and Sarah felt the wrench and flare of the fire demon's searing power lash out against the door and very precisely turn it inside out so that he was at once on both sides, then in the next moment neatly on the side Sophie was.

Sarah gaped in horror as the iron castle rumbled and collapsed on itself, and Sophie scrambled backwards. That hadn't happened when Jareth had removed Calcifer from his hearth. That over clever fae had done something horribly complicated and made it look effortless.

"It's raining!" Calcifer yelped and sparked as Sophie darted about.

"And we're no longer in Market Chipping," Sophie whispered in stunned awe as the bombers began their run across the town. "Howl's still out there," she gasped. She peered up the iron girders and walls of the collapsed castle before her.

"Calcifer can you find Howl?"

The fire demon hissed and flickered.

"It's raining Sophie! If I go out, Howl dies, you know!"

Sophie marched across to the wreck of a castle and yanked open the door. Only this time, there was no warm inviting room within. They trooped up the flight of stone steps into a very tiny kitchen with a hearth and a broken set of wooden stairs that now lead to nowhere as a wall had fallen over the top of them. Sarah reached out with her magic as Sophie set Calcifer down in the hearth. The fire demon complained all the way, about the drips falling on him, to Sophie not being gentle. It was very frustrating to have the very iron the castle was built from confound her. She could sense the doorways were still active, and somewhere in the rubble above them was the one to Megan's home in Wales, but beyond that, it was as though someone had set a cloud about her senses.

"I'm just going to check something outside," Sarah called and hurried out as the Witch of the Waste shuffled over to warm herself beside Sophie, who had switched from cajoling Calcifer to find Howl, to asking him to move the castle once more to fetch him away.

Even though it was now pouring out on the hills of the Waste, it was a wonderful sense of bliss to be out from the claustrophobic dullness caused by the smothering effects of the iron castle. She darted away until she could see Market Chipping and stretched out her senses. There! Howl was there, the foolish, wonderful man, he clearly loved Sophie as much as she did him. As she watched he spun about in his huge magical bird form and attacked a swarm of other lesser magic users, their consciousnesses so faint Sarah realised that they were hardly aware of their own magic at all. All their energy had gone into the shape they had made for themselves and not into cleverly channelling what magic they had. She bit her knuckles. Jareth had warned her of that when she had mentioned Howl's shape shifting. It was too easy to lose one's self in the shifted form, and it was especially hard if one used the form to avoid dealing with the difficulties of life. Magic was about intent, and if one used the form as a part of an escape, it would sooner than later become who you really were and then one day you would not be able to change back. What she had concluded from that was that until she had a firm grasp on her magic, there was no way he was going to teach her shape shifting. She should have begged. That way she would have been able to fly down to Howl and call him out of his pointless defence of the now empty shop.


	40. Chapter 40

It was then that the castle gave a great lurch and plumes of blue fire roared out of the smoke stacks. Sarah fled as bits and pieces fell off as it unsteadily lumbered to its great clawed feet. From a safer distance she watched it stagger this way and that as if getting its bearings, then to her dismay, lumbered a few steps towards Market Chipping.

"Sophie! Calcifer! Wait for me!" She shrieked and ran towards it, then in the next moment tripped face first into a prickly bush. Cursing she twisted out of it only to land on her backside in a sticky mud puddle. Half crying with desperation, she shoved herself to her feet as suddenly the castle lurched and hopped about on one foot then the other, loosing chunks of metal pieces all over the hilltop it staggered across.

Sparks flew everywhere and it veered away from Market Chipping and off into the steep valleys that carved through the Waste.

"Something's happened to Calcifer," Sarah realised in growing horror. She shook out her muddy hands, torn between worrying about Howl and Calcifer, Sophie and the castle. She would have to leave Howl, at least she could run after the castle. Only, a small voice in her mind recalled, Jareth can fly.

"I wish the Goblin King were right here with me now!" She called desperately to the skies.

In a rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning, he was there, in the tightest of his grey trousers and that lovely soft silk shirt of his. He did not seem to notice any of his surroundings, as his face lit up at seeing her.

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, I leave you for three hours and you cannot bare to be parted–"

"Jareth! You can fly!"

She grabbed his arms, leaving muddy prints on his shirt as he blinked down at her.

"What happened to you, precious thing? Did you fall? Are you hurt?"

"What? Oh, don't mind that! You can fly! Can you fetch Howl? Please? He's above the town fighting with those bomber planes, only he doesn't need to. We moved Calcifer and Sophie is safe! Please!"

Jareth's focus snapped to the surroundings and his eyes widened as he took in what was going on.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in horror as he took in the burning town below.

"Helping Sophie! Please Jareth, fetch Howl, please? And tell him Sophie doesn't want to be kept safe, she wants to live."

She watched as his eyebrow climbed above one eye.

"Why do I get the impression that you're speaking about yourself?"

She grasped his face in both hands and kissed him.

"I am, and you'd have it no other way. Howl's good at magic and rules in order to dodge them, but he's useless at matters of his own heart."

"That's because his fire demon lives on it," Jareth said in disgust.

Sarah blinked.

"That little coal Calcifer sits on is Howl's heart? Eew."

"I quite agree. However, if either he or Calcifer fails, they both die. I do owe him, heartless demon mage or not. Stay here, do not venture anywhere near that town!" he ordered and only when she nodded, did he lean over and kiss her lips gently. "I love you."

"Get Howl and get out, no heroics!" she grabbed his shirt anxiously, staring up into his mismatched eyes, as his blond hair dripped rain.

"Sarah, precious thing, you cannot have it both ways," he purred and in a swirl of glitter became an owl and silently flew through the night until she had lost him in the rain and darkness.

She turned and hurried after the drunkenly lurching castle.

.

She darted around the shrubs and bushes and twice tripped over tufts of grass. Only the castle was too far ahead of her. It staggered as if a blow had been struck and stumbled onto its side and shattered to pieces, falling down the nearest ravine. Sarah screamed in terror.

"No!" She picked up her skirts and ran, only to tumbled directly over a bush. She flung herself to her feet again and almost collided with a tree. She darted around and shrieked as the tree moved. She staggered to the side as Turnip-Head the scarecrow hopped up beside her. It tilted and then hopped around a large boulder then hopped back to her and when she didn't move, repeated the motion.

"You want me to get on the rock?"

It hopped and spun as it had done when they had first met.

"You don't trip on things!" Sarah realised and with a few false starts managed to leap onto the boulder and haul herself up.

"I'll have to climb on your back!" She called and the scarecrow proved its awareness by turning for her. She leaped on and found the small crossbar where its feet were tied and jammed hers alongside them, and grabbed the thicker crossbar where its shoulders would be.

"Okay, this is going to be hell on my knees, you can go!"

She worked out its hopping rhythm, and managed not to jar herself too badly. It was like bouncing about on an un-sprung pogo stick. Only, the scarecrow did not follow the hopping and whirling remains of the castle that were growing steadily distant. It went instead to the site of the crash and hopped about anxiously.

"Is someone here?" Sarah gasped in horror.

She awkwardly dropped down onto the sodden tussocks of grass. She peered under the fallen pieces of metal, and heaved them out of the way to squint into the shelters they formed and called, but found no one. She crawled to the edge of the ravine, but only saw a pit of dizzying darkness. She scrambled back from the edge.

"Turnip-Head, if they're down there, I don't think they're alive," she said in a tremulous voice.

The scarecrow hopped and she knew a fit of pique when she saw one. She gasped as the crazy being hopped precariously about the edge, trying to find a way down.

"No! You'll fall and shatter yourself!" She grabbed onto its coat tails and hauled it away from the edge just as it launched itself over. They both landed flat on the grass. The scarecrow tried to move, but aside from useless little shifting motions it could make with its cross bar, it was helpless.

"I can't let you up!" Sarah half sobbed at him. "You'll fall to your death and then where will you be?"

She pushed herself into a sitting position just as out of the darkness, a huge bird flapped into the skies, and on its immense foot was Sophie. So, Turnip-Head was right, there had been someone down there!

"Howl," Sarah gasped and then saw, silent and haunting against the dark skies, the form of an owl, flying ahead of them towards the last remains of the castle.

"Jareth!" She yelled, but he did not hear her.

"There!" She pointed after everyone who was chasing the feebly staggering mechanism that walked the castle. "Turnip-Head, if I let you up, will you chase them?"

The scarecrow gave an extra hard lurch and she awkwardly hauled it upright. It hopped over to a fallen piece of metal and spun about for her.

"Oh! Yes! I'm going with you!" She scrambled up the side of the broken wall and onto the scarecrow's back. "Thank you!" she called then yelped as it sprang away with such force she almost fell.

.

Ahead of them Howl landed heavily on the rickety platform and collapsed. The magic formed feathers evaporated from him and Jareth swooped down to gather the magic. Sophie pulled everyone on the platform together in a huddle. Sarah was too far away to make out what was said, but Sophie coaxed the glowing coal that was Calcifer wrapped about Howl's heart away from the Witch of the Waste and set it over Howl's chest. And all the world went still.

Sarah shrieked in fright as with absolutely no warning Jareth as an owl landed on the cross bar of the scarecrow. There was dead silence and as her heart slowed its startled hammering, she realised that even the rain was held in suspension.

"You have called me, son?" a mournful voice whispered.

"In this moment," Jareth replied, and Sarah felt his comforting magic grasp her as the owl transformed and they both stood on the ground beside the tall scarecrow. She followed his gaze to look up at a patch of sky that could have been in the form of a lady on a horse. "This is a realm at the edge of the fire demons territory."

"So I see, and yet curiously, under the protection of a fiercely loving heart," there was a touch of wistful sorrow to her words.

"Wizard Howl knows much about human magic, but he has yet to learn the depth of dreams and wishes. These are his lands and his people."

"And your wife is one of them," she murmured, "congratulations to you both."

"Thank you, mother," Sarah said when Jareth couldn't seem to find words for his usually glib tongue.

"I," Jareth said hoarsely, "I refused when we last met, but I see now what you meant. I will take my inheritance and walk the path of that duty."

"My son," she whispered with both joy and despair in her words.

Sarah tightened her grip about Jareth's waist as she felt how hard he was trembling. He clung to her shoulders as if she were all that was holding him up.

"Stars hear and witness," her voice lost its gentle sadness and became chilled and powerful and in that moment Sarah saw her as she truly was. No beauty could match her, for she was all dreams aspired towards and fell short, no wonder could come near, for all perfection could not approach what she could bring into being, and all love was lost to her, for it was ever doomed to fall about her as her raiment and never tangle her heart. "This is Jareth the Goblin King, after his father's people. At his bidding and by his wife's side, I claim him as my son, heir of the upper realms and Prince over the Stars and Night. But beware, my people, for he is the King of Transitions, he will not stand by and see the lower realms plundered as you have been doing. Witness now his judgment on those two who drew him to us, and turned his wandering fae heart toward duty. Not out of his love or duty towards us, but out of the respect for the love of a human mage so very hurt by one of our own. My son," she whispered and placed a hand on Jareth's head, flattening the hair that stood there a moment, then lifted it away. His wild hair sprang back up, but about his head flickered tiny pin pricks of light like a delicate circlet of stars.

Sarah let out a hoarse gasp as the lady did the same to her. Her magic was icy.

"Daughter, as the draughtswoman of dreams and wonder, and fierce defender of those who breach the walls of your heart, you have my thanks. Our kind can perceive love but it is not in our nature to hold it, yet my son takes too much after his father. He loves not with the whimsical heart of the fae, but the fierce all encompassing power of chaos without restraint. Thank you for allowing him a resting place among the aeons of the ages."

Sarah would have fallen if Jareth hadn't caught her against his side. The sheer amount of magic now swirling through the air made her dizzy. She nodded dumbly.

The lady peered at the scene before her as she turned her horse, then glanced back and shot Turnip-Head a sharp stare.

"Mortal's always twist magic up in the most peculiar ways; it would appear this is a good place for your work, my son, daughter." She rode off, shimmering into nothing in the still darkness of the frozen moment.

Sarah curled into Jareth's warm side and hugged him for all he was worth.

"Is your mother the Star Demon Queen?"

Jareth gave a very undignified snort of laughter.

"No, but they are a people under her rule. She's done the equivalent of smacking me the upside of my head and telling me to sort out the mess."

"You make it sound as if you'd been a sulky teenager avoiding his chores."

He laughed again.

"If my teenage years lasted several centuries, then yes, that's exactly what it is."

"I thought you didn't know your mother."

"No, I did not, but I've had fire demons petition me before and I dumped several in the Fiery Forest before they learned to leave me alone. That they came to me at all should have let me make the connection, but no, I suppose I thought wholly like my father's people and despised them their heartless ways."

"That's rather unkind of her," Sarah tried to be diplomatic.

"Sarah," he breathed, "you cannot judge her as a mortal mother, they love so powerfully that to a fae it would be smothering, fae mothers teach their children wit and guile, and she, well, she taught me to survive in a world that is ever against me. By all rights I should have grown cold hearted and cruel, yet, here I am, centuries later, fighting to protect those I regard as mine, and I suppose that is love."

"And all the while using that Labyrinth of yours to teach others the same lesson," Sarah realised.

"It's kept more mortals out of deeper trouble than I can count, and hundreds of fae have learned the art of patience, and that consequences must be faced."

"You're not a King," Sarah reached up and tapped his nose, "you're a teacher."

He raised his head imperiously, and for a moment looked the sovereign king he was, a crown glittering around his head and his face powerful yet benevolent.

"A good King is a teacher, for people look to his example."

Sarah shivered in awe, then noticed the muddy smudge she had put on his nose. He was not all perfection.

"Throwing temper tantrums, changing the rules, uh, setting the Cleaners after me–"

"I have my failings just like anyone else," he said with an unrepentant grin that only made him look more mischievous, "and don't tell me your very wilful fifteen year old self did not need it?"

Sarah pouted at him. He busied himself kissing her far too tempting lower lip. She wriggled out of his grasp giggling.

"Okay, we need to get back to the castle in Scotland, but to do that we have to tie up things here. If you'd do the honours?" Sarah gestured at the frozen time around them.

Jareth stepped back and with an expression of powerful concentration on his face, he made a gesture and formed a crystal in his hand and around them the world seemed to pop like a delicate soap bubble, and the rain pelted down.


	41. Chapter 41

Soaked from the pouring rain, Jareth leapt for the platform on which their friends huddled, and gracefully stuck his landing. The Witch of the Waste took one look at him and shrunk down into a kneeling crouch, burying her head as if that would hide her from him. Jareth ignored her. He strode over to Sophie as if to grab her by the shoulder then froze. He stepped backwards as the young woman with silvery hair pressed her hands over Howl's heart and nipped Calcifer free from it. The little flame danced in her hand, but all her attention was on Howl, who lay prone on the remains of the floor. She was whispering to him, the words lost in the rain and wind.

Howl suddenly coughed and with a pained groan curled up on his side, his hands clutching at his chest. The platform they were on wobbled and Jareth made a negligent gesture. It shuddered for a moment then it tottered over to sink onto the ground before Sarah and Turnip-Head.

Jareth then drew his hand through the air above his head and an invisible dome, made visible by the splashes and running water droplets appeared above them.

"Fae King?" Howl groaned, squinting at him, clearly in some pain.

"Mortal Wizard," Jareth responded.

"What are you doing here?"

"A more appropriate question would be where 'here' is." Jareth idly turned to stare out at the dark hills and ravines that made up the Waste.

Howl sat up groggily and curled his hand around Sophie's. Sarah had to look away, the all consuming expression of love they shared was far too personal to watch. She glanced back to find them kissing and Calcifer dancing indignantly above their heads.

Jareth cleared his throat.

"Not to interrupt this very momentous occasion," he drawled and Howl shot him a filthy glare over Sophie's head. Sophie squeaked with embarrassment and peeked out between her fingers to see whom they had as an audience.

"Sarah!" she whispered and lowered her hands in relief. Sarah could see the curse fading as she spoke, leaving only her hair bleached silver, as a reminder of its grip. True love's kiss? No, the spell didn't have that aspect to it, it was more along the lines of Beauty and the Beast. It struck her then how insidiously complex the apparently simple spell was. On one level, it was not actually intended for Sophie at all, as she was but a pawn in the Witch's twisted revenge against the heartless rakish Howl. On another, it was for Sophie in order to eliminate her as a potential rival. Sarah scowled at the cowering old woman at the edge of the platform. The double component of both her loving Howl and he finding his heart to love her in return had broken it. It made her head hurt to think about, and she just knew that Howl would use it when they next discussed the lifting of spells.

Sarah waved back at Sophie, then cringed at how covered in mud her hand was. Jareth wasn't much better, his grey and white clothing held evidence of all the time she had clung to him. He also had several smears across his face and nose. Her handprint was particularly clear on one cheek. Sophie noticed, caught Sarah's eye and placed a hand against her own cheek.

Sarah blushed as Sophie giggled.

"I see you got your own momentous occasion out of the way before you interrupted ours," Sophie said primly to Jareth and tapped her cheek. He merely raised an eyebrow.

"As is only good and proper," he retorted.

Sarah hid her smile behind her hand as Sophie rolled her eyes at him.

"If all you're going to do is stand there, then I have other business to attend to," Howl gathered Sophie against his chest and she blushed.

Jareth took a deep breath and Sarah suddenly realised how uncertain he was. How difficult was whatever he was psyching himself up to do?

"I am Prince Jareth of the Stars and Night, stand before me you three star demons and give an account of yourselves."

Calcifer sparked into a blue fireball and dove for Sophie. The Witch of the Waste scrabbled off the platform on all fours and stumbled off into the night and only Turnip-Head hopped onto the platform and stood tall before him.

Jareth gave an aggrieved sigh, raised his hand and made a tugging motion. The surprisingly spry old Witch of the Waste came tottering back, very much against her own will. She ended up in a heap beside Turnip-Head and Calcifer peeked through Sophie's fingers.

"No one ever said we had a Prince," he said sulkily.

"You know my mother, perhaps?" Jareth asked smoothly.

Calcifer flickered and almost went out.

"The Queen?" Calcifer spluttered and turned to Howl. "Of all the beings in all the realms and plains, why did you befriend her son?"

"His wife is my second cousin? Can't help family." Howl shrugged.

Calcifer crackled dispiritedly and wafted over to hover resignedly beside Turnip-Head.

"I shall deal with the eldest first." Jareth turned to the Witch of the Waste. "Miss Angorian, tell me of yourself."

"Whatever you've heard, Your Highness, it's mostly lies."

"Mostly," Jareth left the word hanging between them.

The old woman peered up at the skies as if she'd found something particularly interesting to watch. Jareth spoke in a tone of endless patience when she remained silent.

"I could speak your dreams before these witnesses here, or save you the trouble of giving an account for yourself and weigh your heart in the balance of this world and the next?"

The Witch of the Waste turned her head slowly to him and drew herself up, the slightly senile kindly old lady vanished into a very cold stare.

"You bound me to this body, Goblin King, back at that human palace. Why ask petty questions as our Prince if I cannot do any further 'harm,'" she sneered the last word.

"An account must be given, in this life or the next. My mother is not as benevolent as I."

The Witch of the Waste shuddered and cast a fearful glance at the stars.

"I do so love young men," she said with a soft sigh, "to watch the love and the spark within. Their hearts are so delicious just then."

"And so you trapped young men's hearts and used the spells on this body you have stolen to do so?"

She tapped her chest in outrage.

"This was my host's body, freely given, not even fae law contests that!"

"No, but mortal law does, and the body you wear is mortal," Jareth declared. "Tell me of the men, and women if that is the case, whose hearts you have taken and the locations of their remains."

"Why should I? You'll only get all moralistic and picky about it all? They're long dead."

"You stand judged under mortal law; they are picky about such things. Speak on."

"You are no mortal to so judge me!" she spat.

"Do you wish for me to judge you then by fae law, or by the laws of the Stars and Night? Your heart is in balance an–"

"No! Mortal law, mortal law," the witch squeaked.

Jareth continued to give her a thoroughly unimpressed stare.

"There are twenty bodies," she mumbled, "all men."

"That would be roughly four for each century of your life?"

She glowered miserably at him as if he were unfairly revealing secrets he should not.

Sarah glanced at Howl and his face was white with shock.

"Where are their remains?"

"Scattered across the Waste," she said grudgingly.

"Ah, so it is a bone spell keeping the life at bay here, well, that will be included in part of your punishment. You'll have to dig up every last one and set them to a proper burial."

The old woman looked horrified.

"I cannot manage such work! Look at this body! It's full of aches and pains..." she trailed off at Jareth's exceedingly unimpressed stare.

"Give me the list of names, residences and where I am most likely to find their families."

The Witch of the Waste muttered to herself as if this were a great imposition.

"The first was the darling of Miss Angorian, whose body this is. A strapping young farmer from Upper Folding, with a heart so powerful I lived a century on it alone."

"Name," Jareth said not hiding his distaste.

"Bert of Wilt Willow farm, there is no farm or family there now; the wars of two kings back emptied them."

Her recitation went on, and Sarah realised she had kept a close watch over the family of every heart she had taken. In taking the heart, the fire demon had taken on the love it had once held by a kind of twisted osmosis. Some families had survived her interest, most had not. When she had recited all of them to Jareth's satisfaction, she stood proudly defiant.

"You know the law of the Stars, to fall is death," Jareth said firmly.

"Then we all three are dead before the law of the Stars, my Prince, but you said you would judge me under Mortal Law!"

"I know, and I shall. You shall be bound and taken to the King's Palace in Kingsbury, and state the murders you have just listed before a mortal judge to take their judgement on them. As you have already stood before Madame Suliman's Sorcerer's court for the violation of the magical laws, we won't have to drag her into this. Yet before whatever sentence they decide is meted out, you will be taken by those who can keep and bind you out into the wastes to dig up the bone spell. This is my judgement."

"I'd heard tell the Goblin King was a bit of a wastrel, seems you're rather careless too, where are we standing right now?"

"In the Waste," Jareth said, unimpressed.

"And where is the heart of my power?"

Jareth opened his mouth and froze in a state of shock as if he had been forced so by a spell. Sarah reacted before she could think. She leaped onto the platform and socked the Witch of the Waste across the jaw. She went down in a heap. Sarah spun about to find Jareth still standing there, frozen.

"What have you done, you poisonous old hag!" Sarah grabbed the Witch but found her out cold. She hurried over to Jareth just as Howl stood and coughed, clutching at his chest.

"It's a general spell, angling after any male with a heart; we have to get out of range."

Sarah muttered a very nasty word under her breath.

"Labyrinth, open a doorway for us, the King got his ass handed to him again!"

About them, instead of a doorway, the whole platform they were all on appeared right in the middle of the Bog of Eternal Stench. Sarah gagged and there were cries of alarm and disgust from everyone who could smell.

"Labyrinth, I love you for wanting to Bog the Witch of the Waste, but the rest of us aren't here for a dunking!"

She felt the jolt of magic that time and they ended up right inside the throne room. Jareth dizzily staggered to regain his footing as the spell snapped. Howl collapsed to his knees, coughing and Calcifer twitched and sparked, peering around at the grass underfoot and the trees of odd metal among the mess of chickens and goblins that were scattered to the sides of the room and staring at them in shock.

"This is the heart of fae territory!" he moaned nervously.

For some reason, the goblins took one look at him and fled, yelling for others as they went. The chickens returned to peck and scratch on the grass.

Jareth muttered something very unpleasant under his breath and staggered off the platform and over to his throne. He collapsed into it and scowled thunder and fury down at the gathering before him.


	42. Chapter 42

"Excellent," he smirked without a touch of mirth. "I know just the Oubliette to store her in." With a toss of a glittering crystal, the Witch of the Waste was gone.

"Sarah?" he whispered and she ran over and hugged him. He managed a pained smile.

"She hurt you?" Sarah worried.

"And you saved us all," he spoke but his breathing was laboured.

She smiled down at him, simply relieved the spell had broken by sheer force.

"The King got his ass handed to him again? Sarah, there is a time and place for us to mock each other, but before my subjects, please, take care in your wording." He rubbed at his chest and shivered.

Sarah blushed, and felt rather ashamed.

"Sorry, I was talking to the Labyrinth, I'll be more careful in the future."

He took her hand and squeezed her fingers as if he wished for a bear hug instead, then kissed it.

"Join me at my side," he gestured to the throne beside him and she nervously perched there, realising for the first time what it meant to sit there. Responsibility was heavier than any crown.

.

Jareth straightened in his throne and peered down at Turnip-Head the Scarecrow.

"Prince Justin?"

The scarecrow hopped and spun three times in excitement.

"The kidnapped prince!" Sophie gasped.

"Do you wish for me to force the enchantments?" Jareth asked, resting his elbow on the side of his throne with chin on his palm.

The scarecrow stood still and seemed to contemplate this. Jareth perked up as if he had heard a voice no other had. A clap of thunder shook the throne room, making the tree leaves tinkle and light fell like glitter as in the place of a scarecrow, stood a tall blond man, barefoot and dressed in the rags of the black tux he had worn as a scarecrow. He abruptly sank to his knee before Jareth.

"Prince Jareth, this body is that of Prince Justin, but I cannot claim the name or title." He rattled off as if reporting to a superior officer. "I am Percival. I am the fire demon the King forced his son to give his heart when he was but a boy, an exchange for the power to protect his kingdom. Judge me as you would, but please, allow me to return home to show my father that the King that Ingary has not kidnapped me. The Witch of the Waste saw me as a rival fire demon poaching in her territory. She cast such a spell on me and bound me to live as a scarecrow."

Jareth stood from his throne and walked over to him.

"Rise and stand before me."

The prince did so, standing as if to attention, his hands tucked behind his back. Jareth examined him, briefly circling him as a slowly deepening frown appeared on his face.

"You do not have long for this world as a mortal."

"I know, fifty more years, if I am so lucky."

"What would you do with that time?"

"I will live as the prince of my land, should my father be willing to take me back. I am due to marry Princess Beatrice as per the agreement between our fathers. Perhaps I may find some purpose in the mortal life beyond simply that of magical defence of my nation."

"You will return home and have your father cease hostilities against Ingary. Expect me to visit in a month after the war has ended, as your Prince, in order to explain to your father what it is he has done to his own son."

Prince Justin swallowed hard.

"That will not be a pleasant meeting, Your Highness. My father is an old, proud man, and few can gainsay him."

"If you are such a coward, then do not warn him of my coming. Nevertheless, I will be there and the situation explained. Mortals cannot be kept ignorant of what they are doing."

"You will not find me a coward, Your Highness. My father shall expect your arrival. My apologies in advance at his poor reception."

"Thank you," Jareth said and reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know this is none of your own wish Percival, and I hope to prevent others from ending up in your situation."

The prince closed his eyes and for a moment an expression of great exhaustion and sorrow flashed across his face, but he mastered himself and raised his head with fiercely blazing eyes once more.

"You will find me ever your servant, Your Highness."

.

Jareth gestured for him to seat himself on the low stone bench that encircled the throne room and turned to Calcifer.

The little fire demon burned blue and tried to make himself as small and as unnoticeable as possible.

"Stand beside him Howell Jenkins of Wales," Jareth ordered.

"Yow! My whole true name! That hurts fae!" Howl bitterly complained and shuddered as he pushed himself upright to stand beside Calcifer. Sophie came to her feet then stepped over so she stood to the side but slightly before Howl and shot Jareth a stern warning stare.

"Now this," Jareth gestured to them, "is possibly the most unbelievable string of impossible situations that ever resulted in a fair outcome."

"I did not hope to wish for an interesting life," Sophie admitted wryly as her face softened, "but I got one."

Jareth smiled at her then grimaced as he turned to Howl and Calcifer.

"The two of you, where to start?"

"You're not going to throw us in an Oubliette?" Howl said with glassy brightness.

"Tempting, oh so tempting, but no," Jareth put his hands on his hips and grimaced. "As Prince of the Stars, Calcifer, I must judge you for taking Howl's heart. Yet as the same, I find I must award you for somehow finding a life speaker who would willingly offer the gift of her hopes and dreams for you to sustain yourself in the mortal world."

Calcifer bobbed and flared up into a more yellow flame now that he was partly sure Jareth was not about to smite him.

"Yet even with them, you have not long in this world, only as long as she lives and breathes."

"I know," Calcifer sparked up to a golden orange flame, as if willing to make a good standing for himself. "I accepted this. She loves Howl, and I care for both her and Howl, I would ask leave to remain with them if they would have me as part of their family?"

"Of course you're part of the family, Calcifer!" Sophie declared with a gasp.

"As Sophie requests, it shall be done," Jareth intoned.

Calcifer bobbed over to her and Sophie caught him in her hands and planted a kiss on his cheek. The fire demon promptly fizzled pink and avoided Howl's gaze.

He then turned to the wizard with black hair and clothes as bedraggled as his own.

"And you?" His voice croaked slightly and he cleared his throat with a cough. "Howell Jenkins, I owe you more than any life debt can repay," Jareth spoke thickly through his emotions. "Ask of me what you will and I will do all in my power to see it done."

Howl's jaw dropped. He snapped it closed and fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, then glanced at Sophie and Calcifer.

"Er, well, we're currently homeless, do you mind if we stay in Sarah's cottage while we get things together again?"

Jareth turned to glance up at Sarah on the throne and she grinned broadly and nodded.

"As my wife agrees, and it is her pleasure to grant it, that will be a yes. Take your time in thinking of your boon, you are free to discuss it with me first, but make it a good one."

Howl simply nodded dumbly.

Jareth clapped him on the shoulder and then turned to inspect his throne room with a frown. With a twist of his hand the trees rattled and tingled as they shifted to the very far corners where they looked decorative rather than confining the entire place in a gloomy forest like atmosphere. The majority of the grass vanished, much to the chicken's dismay, but patches of it remained around the tree roots. He nodded to himself as if satisfied, then peered about.

"Goblins!" he called.

Scores of them put their heads in at the windows, doors and around the trees. Sarah gasped as she realised they had all been hiding, invisibly watching the proceedings.

"Ah, do you not appreciate our new guests?" Jareth smirked at them.

"Kingy smells different!" One of them snapped at him as he wrinkled up his face.

"Too much like fire demon, too much like cold night!"

"You half smell like you're supposed to, what happened to the other half?" Another held its nose.

Jareth walked out among them and they darted out of the way for fear he would kick them, but scuttled around behind him anticipating it happening to another.

He then began to sing. It was quite a clever song, explaining very simply what had happened. How he had found his mother, and his inheritance. It had little jaunty bits which had him dancing about and Sarah could not help bobbing her head along. She sat on her throne and laughed at the expression of incredulity on Howl's face. Calcifer perked right up, caught the chorus, and sang right along with him. The goblins by then had joined in and it was quite the cacophony by the end.

Jareth turned around and produced his favourite riding crop and twirled it between his fingers then gestured to Sarah.

"The lovely young lady who now occupies the throne alongside my own, is my wife, the Lady Sarah! She is soon to be Queen Sarah when we get around to the coronation. She has the delightful title of Queen of the Labyrinth, and by that extension means that she can bog the lot of you."

The goblins were silent for all of three seconds, eyeing her.

"Kingy got married without us?" A very disappointed voice said. Sarah had never seen the goblins so quiet or so heartbroken.

"A mortal ceremony," Jareth said with aplomb, "very important for mortals. In a year's time, we shall have a full fae wedding here, and the party will last all thirteen days. That's what you lot really wanted, isn't it? Thirteen days of grog?"

The goblins cheered and whooped and the throne room descended into utter chaos. Jareth sauntered back, swinging the riding crop around one finger and tipped himself into his throne, one foot over the side. Sarah reached over and grasped his hand and he leaned over and kissed her knuckles.

"If that is okay with you, precious thing?"

"You're learning," she laughed.


	43. Chapter 43

Jareth opened a doorway to the cottage and they all trooped through, including Prince Justin hovering awkwardly in the background.

"Everyone needs a bath and a change of clothes," Sarah realised. "Let's just go to my parent's place. They have two bathrooms and I am sure I can persuade Karen to let us cook a late supper for everyone. It's only ten in the evening."

They made their way across two streets; Calcifer flickered and darted around, looking for all the world as though a sugar high child was racing about with a sparkler.

Sarah knocked on the door and Robert answered almost immediately. He took in their appearance and hastily stepped to one side, holding the door open.

"Come in, come in! What's this Michael tells us about you being stuck in a bombing raid?"

"That was true," Sarah explained and was startled when her father hugged her tightly. "Dad?"

He did not let her go and everyone crowded around them into the hall.

"Child you give this old man grey hairs with your antics. You could have died!"

Sarah hugged him back.

"But we didn't, dad. And we've found Prince Justin," she pointed at the blond young man in the tattered tuxedo. "He's the one who can stop the war."

"See that you do, Your Highness!" Robert growled at him.

"Of course sir! I just need to see about my appearance sir, can't be appearing before my father the King like this."

Robert let Sarah go and waved him up the stairs.

"The bathroom is the first door on the left, and you look about my size. Would you be able to return my Armani suit if I leant it to you? What size shoe do you wear?"

The prince swept up the stairs, answering the questions promptly, as if completely used to having people order him about.

"Wow, Sarah, you look like you jumped in a mud puddle and wrestled a pig."

Toby appeared at the top of the stairs yawning. He then spotted Sophie.

"Hey! Michael, wake up!" He yelled at the top of his voice. "Sophie and Howl are here! And Calcifer!"

At that he tore down the stair, skidded to a halt before Sophie and poked a finger up at Calcifer.

"How did you get off the hearth? You said you were stuck there as Howl's slave."

"I was. Sophie freed me," Calcifer said with a soppy smile.

Michael stumbled out of Toby's room, dressed in a set of Duck Tales pyjamas. He took one look at Sophie, stumbled down the stairs and flung himself at her. She bent over and patted him gently. Howl reached over and ruffled his hair and Michael looked up at him and sniffed.

"You've got blood on you!" he said in alarm.

"It's old blood, I'm healed," Howl showed him the scratch on his arm to reassure him.

"You guys can use the bathroom off the basement, this way." Sarah waved them over as Karen appeared at the top of the stairs in what appeared to be a hastily thrown on dress and sandals. Her hair was still in curlers and she wore no makeup.

"Sarah?" she gasped in relief.

"I'll be up there to see you now, Karen!" she called. She fetched towels and a change of clothes for Howl and Sophie, and left them to use the room. Michael headed straight in with them, and Calcifer hovered at the door as if to stand guard.

She found Jareth and Karen, now without her curlers, in the kitchen. Karen pulled packs of frozen meals out of the fridge as Jareth explained the situation in a very carefully edited manner. Karen set the stove to heat the soup and jammed the frozen pie in the microwave.

"I thought you and Sarah were on your honeymoon," she said a little helplessly.

"We are, but things became complicated in Ingary, so we had to help out," Jareth said blithely.

Karen peered up at him.

"Why am I under the impression that I don't know the half of what really happened?"

Jareth tilted his head with the most wide-eyed innocent blue-eyed stare.

"I have a six year old son, he's perfected that look, I'm immune," Karen said with weary fondness.

Jareth chuckled mischievously.

"The real story involves war, blood, mayhem, curses, spell breaking, the swearing in of princes and powers and the judgment of the damned. Want me to tell it where children could hear?"

Karen went white.

"It's not quite as bad as he's making it sound," Sarah walked over to lean against him. Jareth rested his chin on her head and folded his arms around her.

"I thought fae could not lie," Karen said faintly.

"He's not lying, only it's not that bad," Sarah insisted.

"You left Michael here because his home town was being bombed! Sarah, what can be worse?"

"Fire demons?" Sarah volunteered.

Karen closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"One day, you, His Majesty, Robert and I are going to sit around a table, and you're going to tell us all about these impossible worlds that you now live in." She poked the wooden spoon in Jareth's direction. "I'm glad you're King of the Goblins, at least they're manageable."

"You're able to manage goblins? I'll happily trade for the secret!" Jareth perked up.

"They're like five year olds, set them limits and they're happy," Karen shrugged. "Robert's useless with them, so I suppose you're going to have to rely on Sarah. She'll manage them for you."

"I knew there was a reason I married you!"

Sarah just laughed.

.

They all crowded around the dining room table, all ten of them. Robert had parked the Weber grill beside Howl for Calcifer and the fire demon was happily glowing over chunks of charcoal. The food was a very peculiar mixture of William's household leftovers. Everyone fought for a piece of the leftover Sunday pot roast, though there was also soup, chicken pie, salad and copious amounts of wedding cake for dessert. It was filling and wholesome. Sarah could not believe how different people looked. Howl wore one of her father's golf shirts with jeans, while Jareth had borrowed a more formal button up and slacks. Prince Justin was very formally dressed in the Armani suit and ate with beautifully polished manners, as befitting a Prince. Jareth rather let the side down with the way he, Michael and Toby spent their time forking food off each other's plate. Sophie wore one of Sarah's own dresses and looked as if she had just popped in from a neighbouring street to visit.

Somehow, the whole story came out over the meal, everyone telling their part of it, and Jareth interjected to explain or brush under the carpet some of the more unbelievable aspects of the tale.

"So, King Jareth asks me, 'what would I have as a boon'" Howl explained over his helping of cake, "and my mind takes a holiday. My one chance to ask a very powerful king a favour, and I just clam up!"

"So what did you request?" Robert asked.

"We lost the castle tonight, so a place to stay, Sarah is letting us sleep in the cottage," Howl admitted.

"You lost everything?" Karen sounded aghast.

"All of Market Chipping burned. We'll have to see what we can salvage in the morning, but the house was on fire when I made my final sweep." Howl looked forlorn. "Calcifer and I will be able to salvage much of the castle if we move quickly. There won't be too many people about on the Waste in the next few days."

"You won't be able to approach the Waste, that spell is still in effect," Jareth reminded him.

Howl slumped in his chair and groaned.

"Make sure that that Witches trial goes through first, and have her cancel it," he said grumpily and took a large bite of cake.

"That being said, might I request a boon from you, Your Highness," Prince Justin interrupted politely. "You have the ability to make doors to other places, would you be able to open one to my father's city? I would prefer to move swiftly, in the interests of our citizens and those of Ingary."

"Do you want me to send Howl with you?" Jareth asked and Howl choked on his cake.

"No, it would be best if I went alone. If you would open the door in the Fountain Plaza, I have acquaintances there that would know me and able to vouch for me to enter the palace. Going direct might have them declaring war out of fear that your power can breach their defences."

"Astutely reasoned," Jareth agreed and stood.

Everyone crowded into the hall as Jareth used the front door as an anchor. He pulled the door open and a quiet night greeted them, with soldiers patrolling a city under a curfew.

"I will see that this outfit is well treated and sent back to Ingary for the attention of Wizard Howl." Prince Justin gave Robert a slight nod, then Jareth a formal bow and hurried off into the night. Jareth closed the door and dismissed the doorway.

Karen turned to Howl.

"There's only a small single bed at Sarah's cottage. We'll sort things out in the morning, but tonight do you want to stay in the guest room?"

"Michael can sleep in my room!" Toby volunteered.

"Sophie can have my bed," Sarah offered. "Jareth and I have a nice spot in a castle in Scotland for the night. We'll see everyone for breakfast and mayhem in the morning?"

"Mayhem?" Karen asked, warily.

"We're off to convince the King of Ingary to end the war," Sarah said, "and we've got the trial of a murdering witch to oversee."

"If this is what you do on your honeymoon," Robert murmured a little shocked, "I hate to know what you deal with every day."

"Usually, I deal with petty nonsense and much tedium," Jareth said in a supremely bored tone, "but Sarah won't have it that way and somehow I'm happier for it." He grinned, his eyes bright with mischief.

That night Sarah and Sophie helped scrub the pots, while the dishwasher hummed on the dishes and cutlery. Toby and Michael were back in bed and Howl, Calcifer, Robert and Jareth gathered in the den to discuss Howl's housing situation. However, they appeared to have lost Karen to the gathering as she had taken through coffee ten minutes ago and had not reappeared.

"Thank you," Sophie said softly. "I've never been as afraid as I was tonight."

"I think Jareth could beat you on that one, he never wanted to take up the position of Prince of the Stars and Night."

"Really?" Sophie exclaimed. "He seemed so wonderful and strong."

"Shaking like a leaf," Sarah admitted.

"You should have felt Howl's heart," Sophie said in a hushed voice, "fluttering like a bird."

"So both you and I know it's just a big show, why every time do we fall for it?" Sarah asked wryly.

"There is something magnificent about them when they act strong, even if it is just an act." Sophie reflected. "Maybe all it takes for it to go from an act to being real is for one person to believe it."

* * *

The next day they visited Market Chipping. Howl salvaged his spell books, protected as they were from damage of all kinds. Unfortunately, they were all that remained of the house and shop.

It took a week to arrange peace talks to end the war.

A fortnight passed before the trial of the Witch of the Waste began, as every family had to be investigated and invited.

At the end of a month, a team of witches under Madame Suliman's command lifted the spell on the Waste.

It was half a year before Howl and Calcifer, with the enthusiastic help of Toby and Michael, managed to rebuild the castle. Only Howl made it into a flying machine, having salvaged all sorts of parts from fallen enemy battleships.

On the turn of a year, a wedding and a feast, the likes of which had seldom been seen in any of the many plains of existence, was held in the Goblin Kingdom. As the last guests wound their way home through the Labyrinth with their guides, Sarah stood at the window of the royal suite. She leaned back as Jareth slipped his arms around her as the sun slipped away with the day. To think, she had sought out Howl to keep Jareth away, what would have happened if he had unquestioningly agreed to her request? She turned about in her husband's arms and kissed him. There would never be enough days in the world for her to be thankful.

* * *

Ten years later Sarah still hadn't quite forgiven Calcifer for teaching the goblins (and Jareth) to sing _Sosban Fach_.


End file.
